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This  book  is  due  on  the  date  indicated  below 
-^      and  is  subject  to  a  fine  of  FIVE  CENTS  a 
day  thereafter. 


jm  2  2  1964 

NOV  2  3  1965 


Copyright  by  Hartii04>k 


HOW    PLANTS    ARE    TRAINED 
TO    AVORK    FOR    MAN 

BY    LUTHER    BURBANK    Sc.  D 


r 


PLANT    BREEDING 


VOLUME     I 


EIGHT    VOLUMES       *      ILLUSTRATED 
PREFATORY    NOTE    BY    DAVID    STARR    JORDAN 


P.    F.    COLLIER    cS.'    SON    COMPANY 
NEW    YORK 


Copyright,  1914 

By  The  Luther  Buebank  Society 

All   rights    reserved 

Copyright,  1914 

By  The  Luther  Burbank  Society 

Entered   at   Stationers'    Hall,    London 

All    rights    reserved 

Copyright,  1915 

By  The  Luther  Burbank  Society 

Entered   at   Stationers'   Hall,   London 

All    rights    reserved 

Copyright,  1921 
By    p.   F.    Collier   &   Son   Company 

Vr\NUFACTUREn    IN    V.   S    A 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 

VOLUME  I 
Luther  Burbank        ....     .     Frontispiece 

PAGE 

A  Cross  of  Orange  and  Lemon        ...  40 

Thornless  Blackberry  Blossoms     ...  44 

A  Large,  Late-Bearing  Red  Seedling  Cherry  50 

Ordinary  Field  Corn  and  Its  Tiny  Parent  62 

An  Experiment  in  Corn 66 

Armored  Against  Its  Enemies    ....  70 

Improved  and  Wild  Cacti  Still  Bear  Leaves  76 

Contrasting  Types  of  Cactus     ....  80 

Vestigial  Leaves 86 

A  Beautiful  Flow^ering  Cactus       .     .,    .;  90 

This  Plant  Eats  and  Digests  Insects      .  104 

A  New  Plum  and  Its  Wild  Ancestor  .     .  108 

The  Burbank  Potato 114 

The  Geranium  Ready  to  Receive  Pollen  .  120 

A  Pollen-Laden  Bee 124 

Arum  Dracunculus — A  Fly-Loving  Flower  130 

The  Coconut's  Three  Eyes 138 

The  Devil's  Claw— I 140 

The  Devil's  Claw— II 142 

The  Devil's  Claw— III 144 

The  Snowball — Cultivated  and  Wild  .     .  152 

Some  Forms  of  Corn 162 

Variation  in  Corn  Seed    .......  166 

Rainbow  Corn 170 

Vol.    1— Bur     A  J 


2         LIST   OF    ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGE 

Calip'ORNIa  Poppy  {Eschscholtzia)     .     .     .  176 

A  BuRBANK  Bonfire 180 

The  California  Poppy  Turned  Crimson    .  184 

The  California  Poppy  Turning  White      .  188 

Star — Chilean  Wild  Flower      ....  192 

A  Bed  of  Chinese  Pinks 196 

Sample  of  an  Improved  Gladiolus  .     .     .  200 

At  the  Door 208 

The  New  Amaryllis  and  Its  Parents  ,     .  214 
More  Tpian  Five  Hundred  Kinds  on  One 

Tree 218 

.  222 

.  226 

.  238 

.  248 

.  254 

.  264 

.  294 

.  302 


Two  Seedling  Types  of  Cherries 
Some  of  the  400  Come  to  Judgment 
Some  Hybrid  Blackberry  Canes 
Variations  in  Walnuts     .     .     . 
A  Heavy-Bearing  Seedling     . 
The  Plum's  Perishable  Bloom   . 
White  and  Crimson  Side  by  Side 

The  Shasta  Daisy 

The  Shasta  Daisy  and  Two  of  Its  Relatives  308 
Shasta    Daisies  —  Curious    Tubular    Ray 

Flowers 314 

A  Beautiful  Laciniated  Type  ....  320 
The  Crystal  White,  So  Called  ....  330 
Signs  of  Success — Larger  Yellow-White 

Berries 338 

White  Blackberries  as  They  Grow      .     .    346 

VOLUME  II 
The  Fragrant  Calla      ....     Frontispiece 
The  Spadix  of  One  of  the  Calla  Lilies    .      12 
Hybrid  Callas 18 


LIST   OF    ILLUSTRATIONS  3 

PAGE 

Strawberries  Showing  Variation     ...  28 

A  Typical  Stoneless  Plum 38 

Double  Seeds  Sometimes  Take  the  Place 

OF  A  Stone 44 

The  Original  and  the  Finished  Product  56 

A  Sixteen- Year-Old  "Royal"  Walnut  .     .  62 

Wood  of  the  "Royal"  Walnut   ....  66 
''Paradox"  Walnut  Wood  Two  Inches  in 

Diameter  Each  Year 70 

Variation  in  Hybrid  Walnut  Leaves   .     .  76 

Hybrid  Walnuts 80 

A  Grafted  Walnut  Tree 84 

A  Typical  Plant  of  Giant  Winter  Rhubarb  92 

Ready  for  Shipment 106 

The  Giant  Cherry 116 

The  Abundance  Cherry 128 

The  Sugar  Prune  and  Its  Parents   .     .     ,  140 

A  Luscious  Fruit 150 

Potato  Seed  Balls 168 

Leaves  of  Strawberry-Raspberry  Hybrids  174 

Complete  Kit  of  Pollenizing  Tools      .     .  188 

One  of  the  Oriental  Pears 194 

American  Pears  with  Blended  Heredities  198 

Ten  Corn  Variations 202 

Corn   Teosinte   Hybrids    Seventeen   Feet 

High 206 

Corn  Self  -  Pollinated  and  Crossed  with 

Teosinte 210 

Some  Stems  of  Blackberry-Raspberry  Hy- 
brids    218 

A  Shirley  Poppy — Showing  Reproductive 

Organs 230 


4         LIST   OF    ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGE 

Pollen-Bearing  Pumpkin  Blossom  .     .     .  236 

Seed-Bearing  Pumpkin  Blossom  ....  240 

A  Pollen-Bearing  Grapevine      ....  244 

Strawberry  Blossom  (Enlarged)     .     .     .  250 
The  Stigmatic  Surface  of  a  Poppy  Much 

Enlarged w  254 

Cross  Section  of  the  Cactus  Blossom  .     r.-  260 
Raspberry  Bush  After  Pollination      .     ,.  264 
"Flat"  with  Layer  of  Gravel    ....  270 
"Flat"  Partly  Filled  with  Prepared  Com- 
post      274 

A  Cold  Frame 282 

Protecting  Seedlings  from  the  Birds  .     .  290 

Young  Plants  Awaiting  Selection  .     .     .  294 

Complete  Grafting  Outfit 300 

Cutting  Stock  for  Whip  Graft  ....  310 

A  Side  Graft  in  Position 314 

Crown  or  Bark  Graft 320 

Cutting  the  Bark  to  Receive  a  Bud      .     .  324 

The  Bud  Graft  Completed    .....  328 

Ready  for  Shipment    ......     ..     .  338 

A  Hybrid  Evergreen    ....,.;.    ;..  346 

VOLUME    III 
An  Apple  Graft  One  Year  Old    .    Frontispiece 

Seedless  Grapes 12 

A  Basket  of  Plums 24 

An  Early  Diagram  of  Tree  Grafts      .     .  36 

Reselecting  Selected  Cactus  Seedlings  .  42 

Grafting  Record 46 

Ripening  Record 50 


LIST   OF    ILLUSTRATIONS  5 

PAGE 

Rose  Cuttings  —  Developed  by  Selective 

Breeding 64 

The  Wickson  Plum 78 

Santa  Rosa  Plum 84 

Getting  Color  Into  the  Pear    ....  92 

Shiro  Plums 116 

A  Curious  Fruit      . 120 

Nameless  Seedlings 128 

Some  Curious  Short-Stemmed  Hybrids      .  138 

Improved  Holly  Cherry 144 

The  Holly  Cherry 148 

A  Patrician        158 

Dissimilar  Twins 168 

An  Ideal  Pear .     .     .  176 

The  Nectarine 184 

The  Leader  Peach        .     .     .     .     .     .     .  188 

A  New  Seedling  Nectarine     .....  194 

The  Exquisite  Peach        200 

A  Beautiful  Seedling  Apple      ....  210 

The  Crab  Apple      ........  216 

Three  Seedling  Apples ,  220 

Nameless  Beauties 224 

Getting  On  in  the  World 228 

Half-Sweet,  Half-Sour  Apple    ....  232 

Van  Deman  Quince 238 

Pineapple  Quince 244 

The  Medlar — A  Cousin  of  the  Quince     .  252 

Apricot  and  Seed 264 

The  Apricot 270 

A  Bunch  of  the  Common  Loquats      .     .  274 

Improved  Loquats 278 

Improved  Loquats 282 


6         LIST   OF    ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGE 

Fruit  of  the  Guava 290 

Sweet  Lemons 300 

Seedling  Pomegranate  Fruits     ....  308 

The  Climax  Plum 316 

Beauty  Plum  Fruits    , 320 

The  Blood  Plum  Satsuma 324 

Type  of  Selected  Blood  Plum  Seedling    .  328 

A  Kelsey-Satsuma  Hybrid 332 

Nine  Varieties  of  Crossbred  Plums     .     .  336 

A  Kelsey-Eurbank  Hybrid 344 

Jordan  Plum 348 

VOLUME   IV 

The  Fruit  of  the  Burbank  Plum      Frontispiece 

The  Late  Shipper 14 

Prune  D'Agen  Fruit 28 

The  Sugar  Prune 32 

The  Splendor  Prune 36 

Prune  Drying  in  California 40 

The  Standard  Prune 44 

The  Conquest  Prune 48 

One  of  the  Plumcots       ,,.,,..  60 

A  Superior  Plumcot 68 

Plumlike  Plumcot 104 

Purple-Leaved  Plum  with  Fruit     .     .     .  118 

Globe  Plum  Fruits 128 

Firm  Sweet  Plum  Fruits 134 

The  Apple  Plum 140 

Another  View  of  the  Apple  Plum      .     .  148 

A  Seedling  Crimson-Leafed  Plum   .     .     .  156 

An  Example  of  Uniform  Ripening      .     .  164 


LIST   OF    ILLUSTRATIONS  7 

PAGE 

A  Good  Root  System 174 

The  Odd  Plumcot 182 

Cherry  Plumcot 186 

Sweet  Plumcot 190 

One  of  the  New  Plumcots 194 

Cluster  of  Apex  Plumcots 198 

Another  Plumcot 202 

The  Burbank  Plumcot 206 

Thornless  Blackberry  and  the  Recreant 

Seedling 212 

One  of  the  New  Thornless  Blackberry 

Clusters 220 

The  Familiar  Blackcap  Raspberry      .     .  236 

The  Primus  Berry 242 

The  Phenomenal  Berry 250 

An  Interesting  Hybrid 256 

A  Sample  Seedling  Strawberry      .     .     .  264 

An  All-Summer  Bearer 270 

Everbearing  Strawberries 274 

Another  Perpetual  Variety       ....  278 

Yet  Another  Hybrid  Variety     ....  282 

sunberries 290 

Leaf  Variations  in  a  Hybrid     ....  306 

Hawaiian  Raspberries 316 

The  Buffalo  Berry 322 

Interesting  Hybrid  Berries 330 

A   Near  View  of   Two   Boxes   of   Berry 

Seedlings 342 

Grapes  of  the  Concord  Type      ....  352 

Seedling  Syrians 356 

A  Mammoth  Cluster 360 

Unproductive  but  Meritorious    ....  364 


8         LIST   OF    ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGS 

Small  Cluster  of  a  Fine  Seedling      .     .     3G8 
The  ELiEAGNUS  or  Goumi  Berry      .     .     .     380 


VOLUME   V 

A  BURBANK  Strawberry       .     .     .     Frontispiece 

A  Cactus  Fruit  That  Imitates  the  Pear  10 

Cactus  Fruit  on  the  Slab 14 

A  Good  Specimen 18 

A  Well-Proportioned  Fruit 20 

Fruit  of  a  Chilean  Myrtle       ....  28 

The  Fruit  of  the  Strawberry  Tree     .     .  32 
Fruit  of  One  of   My   Greatly   Improved 

Varieties  of  Mountain  Ash      ...  36 

The  Result  of  Education 42 

A    Cluster   of   the    New    White    Elder- 
berries       50 

Color  Variations  in  the   Canes  of  the 

Hybrid  Blackberries 56 

The  Stem  Finally  Selected       ....  62 

Baby  Plants       .     ,, 74 

A  Beautiful  Thief 82 

Illustrating  Leaf  Structure      ....  88 

Where  the  Tree  is  Alive 94 

Compost  for  Young  Plant  Food      .     .     .  102 

Some  Experimental  Gourds 108 

Some  Gourds  from  Australia     ....  114 

The  Familiar  Beet 118 

Another  Old  Friend 122 

Parsnips 12€ 

Cowpeas  Under  Cultivation 134 

Showing  Variation  in  Beans     .....     .  146 


LIST   OF    ILLUSTRATIONS  9 

PAGE 

A  Stripling  from  the  Tropics    ....  152 

Fruits  of  a  Tomato  Hybrid 160 

Potatoes  with  a  Strange  History       .     .  166 

Transplanting  Selected  Seedlings       .     .  172 

A  South  American  Allium 194 

A  New  Allium 202 

A  Basket  of  Burbank  Peppers  ....  210 

Burbank  Peppers 214 

Artichokes 220 

Half-Opened  Artichoke  Blossom     .     .     .  224 

A  Wild  Artichoke        228 

An  Improved  Artichoke 234 

Flower  and  Fruit  on  the  Same  Plant    .  254 

A  Bed  of  Selected  Crossbred  Camassias  .  264 

A  Wide  Range  of  Variation       ....  270 

Camassia  Blossoms 274 

The  Wild  Camassia 280 

Wild  High  Andes  Potatoes 288 

Some  Selected  Seedlings 294 

A  Fine  New  Early  Potato 300 

A  Freak  Ear  of  Corn 314 

Sections  of  Rainbow  Corn  Leaves       .     .  322 

Three  Fine  Types  of  Corn 330 

Wheat  Germinating  on  Ice 344 

A  Glimpse  at  My  Wheat  Experiments     .  348 


VOLUME    VI 

Artificial  Rain  in  Mr.  Burbank's 

Garden Frontispiece 

Results  of  Wheat  Experiments      ...       14 
A  Sheaf  of  Oats 18 


10       LIST   OF    ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGE 

Sample  Hybrid  Sunflower 22 

The  Flax  Plant 50 

Cotton  Flower  and  Seed  Head  ....  58 

Sugar  Cane  Tassels 70 

Varieties  of  Sorghum 78 

A  Hop-Field  Vista 84 

Sugar  Beets  at  the  Factory      ....  90 

The  Candle  Cactus 98 

The  Gravity  Cactus 104 

The  Prolific  Cactus 110 

Young  Royal  Cactus  Plants      ....  116 

The  Hemet  Cactus 122 

The  Melrose  Cactus 128 

Spineless   Cactus   Showing   Six   Months' 

Growth 134 

A  Fruit  Colony 140 

Cactus  Blossoms 148 

Cactus  Candy 156 

A  Cactus -Slab  Fan 164 

Pampas  Grass 180 

Variation  in  Color  as  Well  as  in  Form  200 

Perennial  Peas 210 

A  Yellow  Tritoma  or  "Red-Hot  Poker"  .  218 

The  Burbank  Rose 228 

A  New  Yellow  Rambler 232 

Roses  at  Sebastopol 236 

Glimpse  in  the  Proving  Ground     .     .     .  240 

A  Mammoth  Bouquet 244 

The  Corona  Rose 248 

Giant  Amaryllis 252 

H^manthus  Blossoms 256 

Seedlings  of  the  Belladonna  Lily      .     .  260 


LIST   OF    ILLUSTRATIONS  11 

PAGE 

A  Double  Amaryllis 264 

A  BuRBANK  Amaryllis 268 

One  of  the  New  Crinums 272 

Seed  Pods  of  the  Crinum 276 

A  New  Shirley  Poppy 282 

Another  New  Shirley  Poppy     ....  288 

Another  New  Poppy 294 

A  Hybrid  Poppy 298 

The  Burbank  Art  Poppies 302 

A  Semidouble  Daisy 310 

Laciniated  Petals 316 

A  Bouquet  of  Shastas 322 

A  White  Gladiolus 328 

A  Primitive  Type  of  Dahlia       ....  340 

A  Common  Type  of  the  Modern  Dahlia  .  348 


VOLUME   VII 

Large  Size  and  Compact  Growth    Frontispiece 

A  New  Giant  Gladiolus 12 

One  of  Ten  Thousand  Variations  ...  18 

An  Unusual  Color  in  the  Gladiolus       .  24 

A  Sample  Gandavensis  Primulinus  Hybrid  30 

A  Seedling  Canna 36 

Another  Seedling  Canna 42 

Giant  and  Dwarf  Callas 48 

The  Lemon  Giant  Calla 52 

The  Siberian  Lily 58 

Some  of  My  New  Seedling  Watsonias      .  66 

A  Spectacular  Iris 80 

A  Luxurious  Type 90 

•Selected  Chilean  Iris 102 


12       LIST   OF    ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGE 

A  Japanese  Iris 112 

Seedling  Japanese  Iris 124 

A  New  Evening  Primrose — The  America  .  134 

Hybrid  Tigridias 144 

Another  Hybrid  Tigridia 148 

Seedling  Tigridias 152 

A  Blue  Tigridia 158 

BuRBANK  Verbenas 166 

More  Burbank  Hybrid  Verbenas     .     .     .  170 

One  of  the  Fragrant  Ones 174 

Australian  Star  Flower 188 

A  Plant  of  Australian  Star  Flower      .  192 

A  Hybrid  Crinum 196 

A  Hybrid  Everblooming  Poppy    ....  202 

Still  Another  Hybrid  Poppy      ....  206 

Improved  Hybrid  Larkspur 214 

More  Hybrid  Larkspurs 218 

Educating  the  Calendula 222 

A  Calendula  of  Real  Distinction       .     .  226 

The  Variegated  Negundo 232 

Flowers  of  the  Tecoma 258 

Spanish  Broom .  268 

A  Fritillaria 274 

Dierama  Pulcherrima 280 

Larkspurs  with  Wonderful  Coloring  .     .  286 

A  Beautiful  Hybrid  Larkspur    ....  292 

The  Bottle-Brush  Bush 298 

A  Selected  Night-Blooming  Cereus     .     .312 

The  Almond  and  Its  Relatives       .     .     .  326 

Selected  Almonds 330 

Some  Mammoth  Specimens 334 

Meats  of  Selected  Almonds       .     .     .     .338 


LIST   OF    ILLUSTRATIONS        13 

PAGE 

Almonds  Grown  in  Peaches       ....     342 

Hybrid  Walnuts 358 

The  Royal  Walnut 372 


VOLUME   VIII 

Santa  Rosa  Nut  Meats     .     .     .      Frontispiece 

A  Dwarf  Chestnut  Tree 10 

A  Basket  of  Chestnuts 16 

The  Paper  Shell  on  the  Tree  .     .     .     .30 

Santa  Rosa  Walnuts 36 

Parents  and  Offspring 44 

Six-Months-Old  Chestnut  Tree  in  Bearing  54 

Yearling  Chestnut  Tree  in  Bearing  .     .  58 

A  Six-Months-Old  Chestnut  Tree       .     .  62 

Bur  and  Catkin 66 

Well  Protected 70 

Chestnuts  in  the  Bur 74 

Hickory  Nuts 80 

A  Pecan  Tree 84 

A  Variety  of  Tropical  Nuts      ....  88 

Chinquapins  and  Chestnuts       ....  92 

The  Wild  Nutmeg 104 

Olive  Trees 116 

The  California  Chinquapin  as  an  Orna- 
mental Tree 130 

The  Variegated  Box  Elder 138 

An  Acacia  Tree  in  Bloom 144 

A  Young  Sequoia  Gigantea 152 

The  Largest  Tree  in  the  World    .     .     .  158 

Yellow  Pine 162 

The  Judas  Tree  or  Red-Bud 166 


14       LIST   OF    ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGE 

The  Hybrid  Elm 170 

Olive   Ross   Burbank,   Luther   Burbank's 

Mother 184 

Luther  Burbank's  Birthplace    ....  202 

The  Old  Homestead  as  It  Now  Appears  .  212 

Mrs.  Luther  Burbank 224 

Luther  Burbank  at  the  Age  of  Twenty- 
Five    246 

My  First  Advertisement 252 

View  in  the  Santa  Rosa  Gardens  .     .     .  258 

Midsummer's  View 266 

A  Simple  but  Important  Equipment   .     .  274 

Soil-Stirring  Implements 280 

Seeds  in  the  Greenhouse 286 

Cleaning  Seeds 292 

A  Collection  of  Sieves 298 

Marking  Rows  for  Planting      ....  304 

Permanent  Labels 312 

An  Effective  Implement 318 

Hybrids  and  Parents 324 

Unnamed  Beauties 330 

Tigridia  Seeds  at  Wholesale      ....  336 

Midsummer  at  Santa  Rosa 342 

Back  View  of  My  Home  Showing  Vines  354 

Tropical  Luxuriance 362 

A  Striking  Contrast  in  Seedlings       .     .  370 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

A  Word  to  the  Reader.  Luther  Bur- 
bank        17 

Prefatory  Note.   David  Starr  Jordan  .       21 

Fundamental    Principles    of    Plant 

Breeding 37 

Evolution   and   Variation   with   the 

Fundamental  Significance  of  Sex      53 

How    Plants    Adapt    Themselves    to 

Conditions 69 

Twenty-Three  Potato  Seeds  and  What 

They  Taught 93 

No    Two    Living    Things    Exactly 

Alike 117 

The  Rivalry  of  Plants  to  Please  Us     147 
Let  Us  Now  Produce  Some  New  Colors 

in  Flowers 175 

15 


VS  CONTENTS 

PAGE 

Short    Cuts   Into   the   Centuries   to 

Come 205 

How  Far  Can  Plant  Improvement  Go?  233 
Marvelous    Possibilities    in    the    Im- 
provement of  Plants     ....  259 
Piecing  the  Fragments  of  a  Motion- 
Picture  Film 279 

The  Shasta  Daisy 299 

The  White  Blackberry       ....  325 


A  WORD  TO  THE 
READER 

THERE  are  two  classes  of  mind, 
which,  when  earnestly  employed, 
are  rarely  combined  in  the  same 
person ;  the  investigator  and  the  re- 
corder, and  when  so  combined,  time 
becomes  the  one  element  lacking.  The 
investigator  and  the  experimenter  who 
is  seeking  practical  results  which  shall 
be  of  lasting  benefit  to  the  race,  cannot 
keep  verbose  records.  He  must  be  on 
the  alert  in  seeking  the  shortest  and 
best  methods  which  shall  lead  to  the 
results  sought. 

These  eight  volumes  are  not  a  com- 
pilation from  the  works  or  words  of 
others,  but  a  description  of  some  of  the 

17 


18  LUTHER    BURBANK 

results  of  actual  work  for  the  past  fifty 
years  among  millions  of  living  plants, 
including  almost  every  one  known  to 
growers  and  many  thousand  species 
never  seen  in  cultivation,  which  have 
been  discovered  by  hundreds  of  my  col- 
lectors of  seeds  of  wild  plants  from 
every  part  of  the  earth,  most  of  whom 
(strangers  to  me)  have  sent  these  seeds 
in  gratitude  for  the  work  accomplished 
here,  or  in  exchange  for  seeds  of  my 
improved  plants  for  the  various  climates 
from  which  the  wild  seeds  came. 

All  these  thousands  of  varieties  are 
grown  and  most  carefully  inspected  and 
selections  made  for  any  promise  they 
may  give  of  use  for  fruit  or  other  food, 
for  flowers,  foliage,  lumber,  fiber,  ex- 
tracts, perfumes  or  other  chemicals,  and 
for  combination  with  our  well-known 
cultivated  trees,  plants,  and  flowers,  for 
their  improvement. 


A   WORD    TO    THE    READER      19 

There  is  a  great  amount  of  litera- 
ture on  the  subjects  treated  in  these 
volumes,  and  I  have  a  library  of  more 
than  a  thousand  books  on  this  and  kin- 
dred subjects,  most  of  them  being 
theoretical  only,  or  compilations  rather 
than  records  of  'actual  experimental 
work. 

This  work,  if  carried  on  extensively, 
requires  constant  daily  and  hourly  at- 
tention, and  these  volumes  have  been 
mostly  written  on  paper  pads  during  the 
occasional  wakeful  hours  of  night,  with- 
out light,  and  of  course  without  use  of 
my  eyes,  which  have  always  been  too 
much  occupied  with  experiments  while 
daylight  lasted.  Notwithstanding  the 
fact  that  those  who  are  making  history 
seldom  have  time  to  record  it,  these 
records  have  been  made  for  the  benefit 
of  those  who  follow,  and  it  is  hoped  that 
this  partial  description  of  actual,  vital, 


20  LUTHER   BURBANK 

important,  productive,  and  successful 
work  may  prove  of  unusual  value  to 
those  who  have  not  had  any  similar 
fortunate  experience,  but  would  be 
guided  in  the  road  to  success. 

Luther  Burbank. 


Santa  Rosa,  California 
July  1,  1920 


PREFATORY  NOTE 

IUTHER  BURBANK,  botanist,  nat- 
J  uralist,  and  plant  breeder,  son  of 
Samuel  W.  and  Olive  (Ross) 
Burbank,  was  born  in  Lancaster,  Wor- 
cester County,  Massachusetts,  on  March 
7,  1849.  His  ancestry  was  English- 
Scotch,  the  main  element  being  derived 
from  the  Puritans  who  followed  the 
Mayflower  Pilgrims  from  1625  to  1640. 
He  was  educated  in  the  common  schools 
and  in  a  local  academy.  After  a  short 
experience  in  an  agricultural  implement 
manufactory  he  began  market  gardening 
and  seed  growing  in  a  small  way,  one  of 
his  first  and  therefore  now  best  known 
achievements  being  the  development 
of  the  Burbank  potato  from  a  selected 


22  LUTHER   BURBANK 

seedling  of  the  Early  Rose.  On  October 
1,  1875,  he  removed  from  Massachusetts 
to  Santa  Rosa,  California,  where  he  has 
lived  ever  since,  devoting  himself  to  the 
production  of  new  forms  of  plants  by 
crossing  and  selection.  He  is  a  member 
of  various  learned  societies  and  for  some 
years  was  lecturer  on  plant  evolution  at 
Stanford  University. 

Personally  Burbank  is  of  medium  stat- 
ure, clear-cut  in  feature  and  wiry  in 
physique,  a  modest,  devoted  man  of 
science  with  a  keen  eye,  a  deft  hand,  a 
broad  intelligence,  and  a  sensitive  soul. 
For  half  a  century  he  has  applied  him- 
self whole-heartedly  to  the  work  of  plant 
improvement.  His  industry  is  amazing 
and  almost  without  parallel;  through  all 
these  years  he  has  kept  thousands  of 
varied  experiments  going  with  the  math- 
ematical certainty  that  in  the  many 
products  of  his   efforts  there  would 


PREFATORY   NOTE  23 

be  some  new  forms  of  unusual  value. 
The  few  gains  are  positive  acquisition. 
For  the  sake  of  one  great  advance, 
he  can  afford  to  burn  thousands  of 
plants  of  which  the  combinations  of 
inheritable  character  show  little  or  no 
improvement  over  the  parent  stocks. 

With  both  animals  and  plants  the 
general  process  of  creating  new  forms 
must  of  necessity  pass  through  four 
stages : 

1.  Unconscious  selection  with  more  or 
less  isolation  of  domesticated  forms. 

2.  Conscious  selectio7i  of  desirable  in- 
dividuals. By  this  means,  those  most 
available  for  man's  purposes  were  pre- 
served, and  their  traits,  differing  in 
different  regions,  became  distinctive 
breed  characters.  This  was  the  method 
by  which  man  created  his  primitive 
sheep  and  the  wolves  he  trained  (as  dogs) 
to  guard  them. 


24  LUTHER    BURBANK 

3.  Conscious  selection  toward  definite 
ends.  In  this  way  are  formed  superior 
strains  within  the  various  species  of 
animals  or  plants. 

4.  Crossing"  between  varieties,  races ^  or 
species  to  increase  range  of  divergence, 
to  add  or  combine  desirable  traits,  or  to 
eliminate  others  which  may  be  objec- 
tionable. This  must  be  accompanied  by 
isolation  to  prevent  panmixia  or  promis- 
cuous breeding,  and  also  by  rigid  selec- 
tion directed  to  a  predetermined  definite 
end.  Such  a  series  of  processes  makes 
breeding  a  fine  art,  one  yet  in  its  infancy, 
no  doubt,  but  in  its  possibilities  the 
noblest  of  all  arts. 

No  breeder  has  any  patent  on  his 
methods.  These  are  open  as  the  day  to 
all  the  world  and  success  depends  not  on 
tricks  but  on  the  brains  and  skill  put 
into  the  work.  Since  the  dawn  of  civili- 
zation  thousands  of  men  have  used  these 


PREFATORY   NOTE  25 

methods,  each  in  his  degree,  and  thou- 
sands will  use  them  again. 

Burbank  is  proud  to  acknowledge  that 
his  success  rests  on  the  science  of 
Darwin,  who  first  clarified  the  laws  on 
which  plant  breeding  must  rest.  Science 
is  human  experience  tested  and  set  in 
order;  Darwin  brought  order  into  the 
confused  and  contradictory  observations 
of  thousands  of  his  predecessors.  He  saw 
the  millions  of  kinds  of  living  things,  not 
as  disconnected  entities  resulting  from 
specific  acts  of  creation^  but  as  diverg- 
ing twigs  from  the  great  parent  tree 
of  life. 

The  attempt  to  trace  the  origin  of  any 
species  leads  one  back  to  the  two  inter- 
nal factors,  heredity  and  variation,  each 
in  turn  checked  by  external  limitations 
of  environment  which  produce  selection 
and  segregation.  Of  the  multitudes  of 
races  which  spring  like  suckers  from  a 


26  LUTHER    BURBANK 

vigorous  root  only  those  have  survived 
which  mastered  their  surroundings. 
Adaptations  are  perpetuated  through  the 
nonsurvival  of  those  who  failed  in  ad- 
justment, and  separate  races  are  fixed  by 
the  natural  setting  apart — through  isola- 
tion— of  groups  of  individuals  diverging 
from  the  parent  form. 

All  these  slow  processes  of  nature  can  be 
accelerated  almost  indefinitely  through 
a  sympathetic  knowledge  of  plant  life  in 
general,  and  the  wise  application  of  this 
knowledge  to  the  attainment  of  the  spe- 
cial results  desired.  The  experimenter 
creates  his  own  environment,  selecting 
those  individuals  which  conform,  and 
destroying  the  others.  He  then  segre- 
gates the  chosen  ones,  that  their  qualities 
may  not  be  lost  in  breeding  with  the 
mass.  The  law  of  heredity,  *  *  like  pro- 
duces like,"  is  interwoven  inextricably 
with  the  law  of  variation  by  which  no 


PREFATORY   NOTE  27 

two  organisms,  not  even  two  germ  cells, 
are  ever  quite  alike. 

Modern  studies  have  given  a  new 
meaning  to  the  word  ancestor,  the  bearer 
of  potentialities,  and  each  new  individual 
is  a  complex  of  potentialities  drawn 
from  diiferent  sources.  Thus,  by  selection 
and  consolidation  of  successful  variants, 
accompanied  by  separation  from  the 
mass,  most  of  the  species  or  kinds  of 
animals  and  plants  we  find  in  nature 
have  been  produced. 

* 'Nature,"  says  Burbank,  "has  time 
without  limit,  but  man  has  immediate 
need  for  better  and  still  better  food, 
houses  and  clothing,  and  our  present 
state  of  civilization  depends  largely  upon 
the  improvements  of  plants  and  animals 
which  have  consciously  and  half-con- 
sciously  been  made  by  man,  and  future 
civilization  must  more  and  more  depend 
upon  scientific  efforts  to  this  end. 


28  LUTHER    BURBANK 

By  grasping  the  ways  of  nature  man 
can  plan  the  end  from  the  beginning. 
He  may  and  does  create  species  by  using 
nature's  methods.  Burbank  is  therefore 
a  "creator";  so  is  any  other  man  who 
appHes  scientific  research  to  the  molding 
of  life. 

Burbank's  experimental  gardens  at 
Santa  Rosa  and  on  the  near-by  farm  at 
Sebastopol  may  be  viewed  by  the  biolo- 
gist as  a  great  laboratory  constantly 
yielding  valuable  data.  Though  his  im- 
mediate purpose  is  to  produce  new  and 
improved  plants  for  the  benefit  of 
humanity,  it  is  evident  that  in  so  doing 
he  works  on  the  borderland  of  what 
Darwin  called  '  *the  problem  of  problems, 
the  origin  of  species. 

Burbank's  ways,  then,  are  nature's 
ways,  in  which  success  comes  to  the  man 
who  follows  them  most  closely.  The 
factors  which  have  made  him  **dean  of 


PREFATORY   NOTE  29 

plant  breeders"  are  the  great  range  of 
his  efforts,  the  extent  of  his  experiments, 
his  keenness  in  perceiving  sHght  varia- 
tions and  their  meaning,  and  the  rapidity 
with  which  he  brings  results  to  light  by 
the  grafting  of  seedlings  on  mature 
stocks.  Dr.  Vernon  Kellogg^  has  well 
said  that  **the  final  and  most  important 
factor  of  Burbank's  success  is  the  inher- 
ent personal  genius  of  the  man,  his  in- 
nate sympathy  with  nature,  aided  by 
the  practical  education  in  plant  biology 
derived  from  thirty  years  of  constant 
study  and  experiment  which  enable  him 
to  perceive  correlations  and  outcomes, of 
plant  growth  which  seem  to  have  been 
visible  to  no  other  man.'' 

I  have  called  Burbank  a  botanist  be- 
cause he  is  one  in  the  highest,  the 
original  meaning  of  the  word.  But 
Botany  with  all  her  sister  sciences  has 

*Scieatific  Aspects  of  Luther  Burbank's  "Works.     Popular  Science 
Monthly,  October,  1906. 


30  LUTHER    BURBANK 

now  spread  out  into  a  vast  realm  far  too 
broad  for  any  one  man  to  explore  in  a 
lifetime.  Burbank's  special  field  is  that 
of  plant  genetics;  here  he  is  artist  as  well 
as  scientist.  Academic,  no — but  science 
is  not  necessarily  bred  in  the  academy. 
Until  within  the  last  half  century  uni- 
versities fought  shy  of  it,  regarding  exact 
knowledge  as  "materialistic"  or  even 
* 'heretical. "  Burbank  is  not  a  physiol- 
ogist, still  less  histologist,  and  the  phe- 
nomena of  the  physical  basis  of  heredity, 
cell  division  and  cell  multiplication,  so 
illumined  during  the  last  thirty  years, 
he  has  not  studied  in  the  universities, 
though  his  large  library  contains  most 
of  the  books  which  relate  to  these  sub- 
jects. In  the  inheritance  of  the  influ- 
ence of  all  environment  he  shows  a  faith 
most  botanists  of  the  day  have  hesitated 
to  share.  The  extended  acceptance  of 
Mendelism  and  mutation  as  final  words 


PREFATORY   NOTE  31 

in  species  making  he  very  definitely 
questions.  In  the  appHcation  of  a  knowl- 
edge of  heredity  to  the  art  to  which  it 
gives  rise  in  the  plant  world  his  suprem- 
acy is  unchallenged. 

I  quote  again  from  Burbank:  **A 
knowledge  of  Mendelism  is  recognized 
by  me  as  only  the  A  B  C  to  the  broader 
knowledge  of  heredity  necessary  for 
success  in  animal  and  plant  improve- 
ment, and  all  variations  and  all  muta- 
tions of  every  nature  are  responses  to 
environment  which,  by  repetition  and 
combination,  are  slowly  but  surely  fixed 
in  heredity  and  at  last  made  tangible, 
most  often  through  the  crossing  of 
varieties,  species,  or  genera,  either  by 
nature  or  that  part  of  nature  called 
man. 

Among  other  things  Burbank  has 
shown  that  while  *  *sex  is  not  a  necessary 
attribute  of  all  living  things,"  it  is  **a 


32  LUTHER    BURBANK 

most  necessary  attribute  if  progress  in 
evolution  of  new  forms  is  to  occur,  as 
they  have  progressed  through  the  ages 
and  as  we  now  see  them  progressing  on 
this  planet/*  Furthermore,  he  has  in- 
sisted that  the  * 'power  to  vary  in  plants 
or  animals  is  itself  a  feature  as  readily 
transmissible  as  is  stability  of  character. 
The  quality  of  varying  to  meet  varying 
environments  is  therefore  one  of  the 
hereditary  traits  which  the  plant  breeder 
must  consider,  and  which  may  itself  be 
extended  or  overcome  by  the  processes 
of  crossing  and  selection. 

*Tt  is  increasingly  necessary  (he  says) 
to  impress  the  fact  that  there  are  two 
distinct  lines  in  the  improvement  of  any 
race:  the  environment  which  brings  indi- 
viduals up  to  their  best  possibilities;  the 
other,  ten  thousand  times  more  impor- 
tant and  eifective,  selection  of  the  best 
individuals  through  a  series  of   genera- 

Vol.  1 — Bur.  A 


PREFATORY   NOTE  33 

tions. ' '  These  two  lines  correspond  re- 
spectively to  Galton's  two  elements  in 
individual  development,  '* Nurture"  and 
'^Nature." 

Burbank  worked  for  years  alone,  not 
understood  nor  appreciated,  and  usually 
at  a  financial  loss,  for  his  instincts  and 
aims  were  those  of  a  scientist,  not  of  a  hor- 
ticulturist. To  have  tried  fewer  experi- 
ments, and  those  only  along  lines  likely 
to  prove  commercially  valuable,  would 
have  brought  him  money  but  not  satis- 
faction. In  his  way,  he  belongs  to  the 
class  of  Faraday  and  the  self-taught  men 
of  the  last  generation  who  dealt  steadily 
with  facts,  while  universities  spent  their 
energies  on  fine  points  of  grammar,  and 
a  philosophy  which,  like  an  epiphytic 
plant,  had  its  roots  in  the  ain 

My  own  first  realization  of  Burbank 's 
scientific  eminence  came  from  Dr.  Hugo 
de  Vries,  botanist  of  the  University  of 

Vol.  1 — Bur.  B 


34  LUTHER    BURBANK 

Amsterdam,  who,  at  a  dinner  in  San 
Francisco  in  1904,  spoke  the  following 
words  of  eulogy: 

*  'A  unique,  great  genius !  To  see  him 
was  the  prime  reason  of  my  coming  to 
America.  He  works  to  definite  ends. 
He  ought  to  be  not  only  cherished  but 
helped.  Unaided  he  cannot  do  his 
best.  He  should  be  as  well  known  and 
as  widely  appreciated  in  California  as 
among  scientific  men  in  Europe." 

Scientists  are  of  many  types.  Some 
observe,  some  compare,  some  experi- 
ment, some  deal  with  general  principles, 
and  others  carry  over  knowledge  into 
action.  There  is  need  for  all  kinds  and 
a  place  for  all.  With  broader  oppor- 
tunities, Burbank  could  have  done  a 
greater  variety  of  things  and  touched  life 
at  more  points  ;  but  he  would  thus  have 
lost  something  of  his  simple  intensity 
and  fine  delicacy — things  the  schools  do 


PREFATORY   NOTE  35 

not  give   and  too  much   contact  with 
society  sometimes  takes  away. 

Big  men  are  usually  of  simple,  direct 
sincerity  of  character.  These  marks  are 
found  in  Burbank,  sweet,  straightfor- 
ward, unspoiled  as  a  child,  devoted  to 
truth,  never  turning  aside  to  seek  fame 
or  money  or  other  personal  reward.  If 
his  place  be  outside  the  great  temple  of 
science,  not  many  of  the  rest  of  us  will 
be  found  fit  to  enter. 

David  Starr  Jordan. 


Stanford  University,  California 
July  5,  1921 


FUNDAMENTAL  PRINCIPLES 
OF  PLANT  BREEDING 

ONLY  the  most  limited  view  of  plant 
breeding  can  be  given  in  a  chapter  of 
ordinary  length.  It  would  be  necessary 
to  extend  the  subject  through  many  volumes 
to  give  even  a  general  view  of  what  has  already 
been  demonstrated,  and  that  which  the  clear 
light  of  science  has  yet  to  bring  forth  from  the 
depths  is  too  extensive  even  for  the  imagination 
to  grasp,  even  through  a  full  knowledge  of  what 
practical  field  work  has  already  accomplished. 

The  fundamental  principles  of  plant  breeding 
are  simple,  and  may  be  stated  in  few  words;  the 
practical  application  of  these  principles  demands 
the  highest  and  most  refined  efforts  of  which  the 
mind  of  man  is  capable,  and  no  line  of  mental 
effort  promises  more  for  the  elevation,  advance- 
ment, prosperity,  and  happiness  of  the  whole 
human  race. 

Every  plant,  animal,  and  planet  occupies  its 
place  in  the  order  of  nature  by  the  action  of 
two  forces — the  inherent  constitutional  life  force 

37 


38  LUTHER   BURBANK 

with  all  its  acquired  habits,  the  sum  of  which  is 
heredity;  and  the  numerous  complicated  exter- 
nal forces,  or  environment.  To  guide  the  inter- 
action of  these  two  forces,  both  of  which  are 
only  different  expressions  of  the  one  eternal 
force,  is,  and  must  be,  the  sole  object  of  the 
breeder,  whether  of  plants  or  animals. 

When  we  look  about  us  on  the  plants  inhabit- 
ing the  earth  with  ourselves  and  watch  any 
species  day  by  day,  or  year  by  year,  we  are 
unable  to  see  any  change  in  some  of  them.  Dur- 
ing a  lifetime,  and  in  some  cases,  perhaps,  in- 
cluding the  full  breadth  of  human  history,  no 
remarkable  change  seems  to  have  occurred.  And 
yet  there  are  to-day  few,  if  any,  plant  species 
which  have  not  undergone  great,  and  to  a  certain 
extent  are  undergoing,  constant  change — the 
invisible  changes  often  appearing  abruptly  with- 
out apparent  cause. 

The  life  forces  of  the  plant,  in  endeavoring 
to  harmonize  and  adapt  the  action  of  its  acquired 
tendencies  to  its  surroundings,  may,  through 
many  generations,  slowly  adapt  itself  to  the 
necessities  of  existence,  yet  these  same  accrued 
forces  may  also  produce  sudden,  and  to  one  not 
acquainted  with  its  past  history,  most  surprising 
and  unaccountable,  changes  of  character.  The 
very  existence  of  the  higher  orders  of  plants 


PLANT    BREEDING  39 

which  now  inhabit  the  earth  has  been  secured 
to  them  only  by  their  power  of  adaptation  to 
crossings,  for,  through  the  variations  j)roduced 
by    the    combination    of    numerous    tendencies, 
individuals  are  produced  which  are  better  en- 
dowed to  meet  the  prevailing  conditions  of  life. 
Thus  to  nature's  persistence  in  crossing  do  we 
owe  all  that  earth  now  produces  in  man,  animals, 
or   plants;   and   this   magnificently    stupendous 
fact  may  also  be  safely  carried  into  the  domain 
of  chemistry  as  well,  for  what  is  common  air  and 
water  but  nature's  earlier  efforts  in  that  line, 
and    our    nourishing    foods    but    the    result    of 
myriad  complex  chemical  affinities  of  later  date? 
Natural  and  artificial  crossing  and  hybridiza 
tion    are    without    doubt    among    the    principal 
remote  causes  of  nearly  all  otherwise  perplexing 
or  unaccountable  sports  and  strange  modifica- 
tions, and  also  of  many  of  the  now  well-estab- 
lished species.     Variations,   without  immediate 
antecedent  crossing,    occur   always    and   every- 
where from  a  combination  of  past  crossings  and 
environments,    for    potential    adaptations    often 
exist    through    generations    without    becoming 
actual,  and  when  we  fully  grasp  these  facts  there 
is   nothing   so  very   mysterious   in   the    sudden 
appearance  of  sports ;  but  still  further  intelligent 
crossing  produces  more  immediate  results  and  of 


A  CROSS  OF  ORANGE  AND 
LEMON 

These  curious  citrus  fruits,  which 
occur  spontaneously  from  time  to  time, 
do  not  appear  from  immediate  crossing 
of  the  varieties,  hut  from  latent  ten- 
dencies which  appear  from  former 
crossings. 


PLANT    BREEDING  41 

great  value,  not  to  the  plant  in  its  struggle  with 
the  ordinary  natural  forces,  but  to  man,  by  con- 
serving and  guiding  its  life  forces  to  supply  him 
with  food,  clothing,  and  innumerable  other 
luxuries  and  necessities.  Plant  life  is  so  com- 
mon that  one  rarely  stops  to  think  how  utterly 
dependent  we  are  upon  the  quiet,  but  magnifi- 
cently powerful  work  which  is  being  constantly 
performed  for  us. 

It  was  once  thought  that  plants  varied  within 
the  so-called  species  but  very  little,  and  that  true 
species  never  varied.  We  have  more  lately  dis- 
covered that  no  two  plants  are  ever  exactly  alike, 
each  one  having  its  own  individuality,  and  that 
new  varieties  having  endowments  of  priceless 
value,  and  even  distinct  new  fixed  botanical 
species  can  be  produced  by  the  plant  breeder, 
often  with  almost  the  same  precision  that  ma- 
chinery for  locomotion  and  other  useful  purposes 
are  produced  by  the  mechanic. 

The  evolution  and  variation  of  plants  are 
simply  the  means  which  they  employ,  as  species, 
in  adjusting  themselves  to  external  conditions. 
Each  plant  must  adapt  itself  to  environment 
with  as  little  demand  upon  its  forces  as  possible 
and  still  keep  up  in  the  race.  The  best  endowed 
species  and  individuals  win  the  prize,  and  by 
variation  as  well  as  persistence.    The  constantly 


42  LUTHER   BURBANK 

varying  external  forces  to  which  all  life  is  every- 
where subjected  demand  that  the  inherent  inter- 
nal force  shall  always  be  ready  to  adapt  itself 
or  perish. 

The  combination  and  interaction  of  the  innu- 
merable forces  embraced  in  heredity  and  environ- 
ment have  given  us  all  our  bewildering  species 
and  varieties,  none  of  which  ever  did  or  ever  will 
remain  always  constant,  for  the  inherent  life 
force  must  be  pliable,  or  outside  forces  will 
sooner  or  later  extinguish  it.  Thus  adaptability, 
as  well  as  perseverance,  is  one  of  the  prime 
virtues  in  plant  as  in  human  life. 

Plant  breeding  is  the  intelligent  application 
of  the  forces  of  the  human  mind  in  guiding  the 
inherent  life  forces  into  useful  directions  by 
crossing  to  make  perturbations  or  variations  and 
new  combinations  of  these  forces,  and  sometimes 
by  radically  changing  environments,  both  of 
which  produce  somewhat  similar  results,  thus 
giving  a  broader  field  for  selection,  which  again 
is  simply  the  persistent  application  of  mental 
force  to  guide  and  fix  the  perturbed  life  forces 
in  the  desired  new  channels. 

Plant  breeding  is  in  its  earliest  infancy.  Its 
possibilities,  and  even  its  fundamental  principles, 
are  understood  but  by  few;  in  the  past  it  has 
been  mostly  dabbling  with  tremendous  forces. 


PLANT    BREEDING  43 

which  have  been  only  partially  appreciated,  and 
it  has  yet  to  approach  the  precision  which  we 
expect  in  the  handling  of  steam  or  electricity, 
and,  notwithstanding  the  occasional  sneers  of  the 
ignorant,  these  silent  forces  embodied  in  plant 
life  have  yet  a  part  to  play  in  the  regeneration 
of  the  race  which  by  comparison  will  dwarf  intc 
insignificance  the  services  which  steam  and  elec- 
tricity have  so  far  given.  Even  unconscious  or 
half-conscious  plant  breeding  has  been  one  of 
the  principal  forces  in  the  elevation  of  the  race. 
The  chemist  and  the  mechanic  have,  so  to  speak, 
domesticated  some  of  the  forces  of  nature,  but 
the  plant  breeder  is  now  learning  to  guide  even 
the  creative  forces  into  new  and  useful  channels. 
This  knowledge  is  a  most  priceless  legacy,  mak- 
ing clear  the  way  for  some  of  the  greatest  bene- 
fits which  man  has  ever  received  from  any  source 
by  the  study  of  nature. 

A  general  knowledge  of  the  relations  and 
affinities  of  plants  will  not  be  a  sufficient  equip- 
ment for  the  successful  plant  breeder.  He  must 
be  a  skillful  botanist  and  biologist,  and,  having  a 
definite  plan,  must  be  able  to  correctly  estimate 
the  action  of  the  two  fundamental  forces,  inher- 
ent and  external,  which  he  would  guide. 

The  main  object  of  crossing  genera,  species, 
or  varieties  is  to  combine  various  individual  ten- 


THORNLESS    BLACKBERRY 
BLOSSOMS 

As  to  its  blossom,  the  Thornless  is 
a  typical  and  characteristic  hlachherry. 
The  smooth  stem  may  make  one  doubt, 
but  on  observation  of  the  flower,  and 
later,  on  viewing  the  great  abundance 
of  its  sweet,  luscious  fruit,  its  unusual 
value  is  very  fully  appreciated. 


PLANT    BREEDING  45 

dencies,  thus  producing  a  state  of  perturbation 
or  partial  antagonism  by  which  these  tendencies 
are,  in  later  generations,  dissociated  and  recom- 
bined  in  new  proportions,  which  gives  the  breeder 
a  wider  field  for  selection ;  but  this  opens  a  much 
more  difficult  one — the  selection  and  fixing  of 
the  desired  new  types  from  the  mass  of  hetero- 
geneous tendencies  produced,  for,  by  crossing, 
bad  traits  as  well  as  good  are  always  brought 
forth.  The  results  now  secured  by  the  breeder 
will  be  in  proportion  to  the  accuracy  and  inten- 
sity of  selection  and  the  length  of  time  they  are 
applied.  By  these  means  the  best  of  fruits, 
grains,  nuts,  and  flowers  are  capable  of  still 
further  improvements  in  ways  which  to  the 
thoughtless  often  seem  unnecessary,  irrelevant, 
or  impossible. 

When  we  capture  and  domesticate  the  various 
plants,  the  life  forces  are  relieved  from  many  of 
the  hardships  of  an  unprotected  wild  condition 
and  have  more  leisure,  so  to  speak,  or  in  other 
words,  more  surplus  force,  to  be  guided  by  the 
hand  of  man  under  new  environments  into  all 
the  useful  and  beautiful  new  forms  which  are 
constantly  appearing  under  cultivation,  crossing, 
and  selection.  Some  plants  are  very  much  more 
pliable  than  others,  as  the  breeder  soon  learns. 
Plants     having    numerous     representatives     in 


46  LUTHER   BURBANK 

various  parts  of  the  earth  generally  possess  this 
adaptability  in  a  much  higher  degree  than  the 
monotypic  species,  for,  having  been  subjected  to 
great  variations  of  soil,  climate,  and  other  in- 
fluences, their  continued  existence  has  been 
secured  only  by  the  inherent  habits  which  adap- 
tation demanded,  while  the  monotypic  species, 
not  being  able  to  fit  themselves  for  their  sur- 
roundings without  a  too  radically  expensive 
change,  have  continued  to  exist  only  under  cer- 
tain special  conditions.  Thus  two  important 
advantages  are  secured  to  the  breeder  who  selects 
from  the  genera  having  nimierous  species — the 
advantage  of  natural  pliability,  and  in  the  nu- 
merous species  to  work  upon  by  combination  for 
still  further  variations. 

Before  making  combinations  we  should,  with 
great  care,  select  the  individual  plants  which 
seem  best  adapted  to  our  purpose,  as  by  this 
course  many  years  of  experiment  and  much 
needless  expense  will  be  avoided.  The  differences 
in  the  individuals  which  we  have  to  work  upon 
are  sometimes  extremely  slight.  The  ordinary 
unpracticed  person  cannot  by  any  possibility 
discover  the  exceedingly  minute  variations  in 
form,  size,  color,  fragrance,  precocity,  and  a 
thousand  other  characters  which  the  practiced 
breeder    perceives    by    a    lightninglike    glance. 


PLANT   BREEDING  47 

The  work  is  not  easy,  requiring  an  exceedingly 
keen  perception  of  minute  differences,  great 
accuracy,  and  extreme  care  in  treating  the  or- 
ganisms operated  upon,  and  even  with  all  the 
inherent  naturally  acquired  variations  added  to 
those  secured  by  scientific  crossing  and  numerous 
other  means,  the  careful  accumulation  of  slight 
individual  differences  through  many  generations 
is  imperative,  after  which  several  generations 
are  often,  but  not  always,  necessary  to  thor- 
oughly "fix"  the  desired  type  for  all  practical 
purposes. 

The  above  applies  to  annuals,  or  those  plants 
generally  reproduced  by  seed  each  season.  The 
breeder  of  plants  which  can  be  reproduced  by 
division  has  great  advantage,  for  any  valuable 
individual  variation  can  be  multiplied  to  any 
extent  desired  without  the  extreme  care  neces- 
sary in  fixing  by  linear  breeding  the  one  which 
must  be  reproduced  by  seed.  But  even  in  breed- 
ing perennials  the  first  deviations  from  the  ori- 
ginal form  are  often  almost  unappreciable  to  the 
perception,  but  by  accumulating  the  most  minute 
differences  through  many  generations  the  devia- 
tion from  the  original  form  is  often  astounding. 
Thus,  by  careful  and  intelligent  breeding  any 
valued  quality  may  be  made  permanent,  and 
valid  new  species  are  at  times  produced  by  the 


48  LUTHER   BURBANK 

art  of  the  breeder,  and  there  is  no  known  limit 
to  the  improvement  of  plants  by  education, 
breeding,  and  selection. 

The  plant  breeder  is  an  explorer  into  the  in- 
finite. He  will  have  "No  time  to  make  money," 
and  his  castle,  the  brain,  must  be  clear  and  alert 
in  throwing  aside  fossil  ideas  and  rapidly  replac- 
ing them  with  living,  throbbing  thought,  followed 
by  action.  Then,  and  not  till  then,  shall  he 
create  marvels  of  beauty  and  value  in  new  ex- 
pressions of  materialized  force,  for  everything  of 
value  must  be  produced  by  the  intelligent  appli- 
cation of  the  forces  of  nature  which  are  always 
awaiting  our  commands. 

The  vast  possibilities  of  plant  breeding  can 
hardly  be  estimated.  It  would  not  be  difficult 
for  one  man  to  breed  a  new  rye,  wheat,  barley, 
oat,  and  rice  which  would  produce  one  grain 
more  to  each  head,  or  a  corn  which  would  pro- 
duce an  extra  kernel  to  each  ear,  another  potato 
to  each  plant,  or  an  apple,  plum,  orange,  or  nut 
to  each  tree. 

What  would  be  the  result?  In  five  staples 
only,  in  the  United  States  alone,  the  inexhaust- 
ible forces  of  nature  would  produce  annually, 
without  effort  and  without  cost,  6,000,000 
extra  bushels  of  corn,  15,300,000  extra  bushels 
of    wheat,    42,000,000    extra    bushels    of    oats. 


PLANT    BREEDING  49 

2,100,000  extra  bushels  of  barley,  24,000,000 
bushels  of  potatoes. 

But  these  vast  possibilities  are  not  alone  for 
one  year,  or  for  our  own  time  or  race,  but  are 
beneficent  legacies  for  every  man,  woman,  and 
child  who  shall  ever  inhabit  the  earth.  And  who 
can  estimate  the  elevating  and  refining  influences 
and  moral  value  of  flowers  with  all  their  graceful 
forms  and  bewitching  shades  and  combinations 
of  colors  and  exquisitely  varied  perfumes? 
These  silent  influences  are  unconsciously  felt 
even  by  those  who  do  not  appreciate  them  con- 
sciously, and  thus  with  better  and  still  better 
fruits,  nuts,  grains,  and  flowers  will  the  earth 
be  transformed,  man's  thoughts  turned  from  the 
base,  destructive  forces  into  the  nobler  produc- 
tive ones  wliich  will  lift  him  to  higher  planes 
of  action  toward  that  happy  day  when  man 
shall  offer  his  brother  man,  not  bullets  and 
bayonets,  but  richer  grains,  better  fruits,  and 
fairer  flowers. 

Cultivation  and  care  may  help  plants  to  do 
better  work  temporarily,  but  by  selective  breed- 
ing plants  may  be  brought  into  existence  which 
will  do  better  work  always  in  all  places  and  for 
all  time.  Plants  are  to  be  produced  which  will 
perform  their  appointed  work  better,  quicker, 
and  with  the  utmost  precision. 


A  LARGE,  LATE-BEARING  RED 
SEEDLING  CHERRY 

The  cherry  here  shown  {enlarged 
one-eighth)  f  developed  in  our  colon?/, 
differs  from  the  one  specifically  called 
the  "Burhank"  in  that  it  is  a  very  late 
hearer.  The  "Burhank"  hears  particu- 
larly early  in  the  season.  It  is  desirable 
to  extend  the  cherry  season,  and  this 
variety  has  heen  preserved  chiefly  he- 
cause  of  its  lateness,  although  it  has 
many  other  desirable  qualities,  as  the 
picture  suggests. 


PLANT    BREEDING  51 

Science  sees  better  grains,  nuts,  fruits,  and 
vegetables  all  in  new  forms,  sizes,  colors,  and 
flavors,  with  more  nutrients  and  less  waste,  and 
with  every  injurious  and  poisonous  quality  elim- 
inated, and  with  power  to  resist  sun,  wind,  rain, 
frost,  and  destructive  fungus  and  insect  pests; 
fruits  without  stones,  seeds,  or  spines;  better 
fiber,  coiFee,  tea,  spice,  rubber,  oil,  paper  and  tim- 
ber trees,  and  sugar,  starch,  color,  and  perfume 
plants.  Every  one  of  these,  and  ten  thousand 
more,  are  within  the  reach  of  the  most  ordinary 
skill  in  plant  breeding. 

On  scientific  plant  development  now  rests  one 
of  the  next  great  world  movements;  the  guid- 
ance of  the  creative  forces  are  in  our  hands. 

Man  is  slowly  learning  that  he,  too,  maj''  guide 
the  same  forces  which  have  been  through  all  the 
ages  performing  this  beneficent  work  which  he 
sees  everywhere  above,  beneath,  and  around  him 
in  the  vast  teeming  animal  and  plant  life  of  the 
world. 

These  lines  were  penned  among  the  heights 
of  the  Sierras,  while  resting  on  the  original 
foundation  material  from  which  this  planet  was 
made.  Thousands  of  ages  have  passed,  and  it 
still  remains  unchanged.  In  it  no  fossils  or  any 
trace  of  past  organic  life  are  ever  foimd,  nor 
could  any  exist,  for  the  world-creative  heat  was 


52  LUTHER   BURBANK 

too  intense.  Among  these  dizzy  heights  of  rock, 
ice-cleft,  glacier-plowed,  and  water-worn,  we 
stand  face  to  face  with  the  first  and  latest  pages 
of  world  creation,  for  now  we  see  also  tender 
and  beautiful  flowers  adding  grace  of  form  and 
color  to  the  grisly  walls,  and  far  awsLy  down  the 
slopes  stand  the  giant  trees,  oldest  of  all  living 
things,  embracing  all  of  human  history ;  but  even 
their  lives  are  but  as  a  watch  tick  since  the  stars 
first  shone  on  these  barren  rocks,  before  the  evo- 
lutive forces  had  so  gloriously  transfigured  the 
face  of  our  planet  home. 


''Some  qualities  nature  carefully 
fixes  and  transmits,  hut  some,  and 
those  the  finer,  she  exhales  "with  the 
breath  of  the  i7idividual  as  too 
costly  to  perpetuate.  But  I  notice 
also  that  they  may  becorne  fixed 
and  permanent  in  any  stock,  by 
painting  and  repainting  them  on 
every  individual,  until  at  last  na- 
ture adopts  them  and  bakes  them 
into  her  porcelain" — Emerson. 


EVOLUTION    AND    VARIATION 

WITH  THE  FUNDAMENTAL 

SIGNIFICANCE  OF  SEX 

IN  searching  for  knowledge  on  any  subject, 
it  is  quite  evident  that  it  is  best,  if  possible 

to  start  with  the  foundation  facts  before  at- 
tempting to  build  any  useful  or  beOiUtiful  struc- 
ture, and  it  will  be  necessary  in  this  case  to 
repeat  some  facts  available  to  specialists,  but  not 
so  generally  known  or  appreciated  by  others, 
for  upon  a  knowledge  of  fundamentals  depends 
the  life  of  any  structure. 

As  a  specialist  in  the  study  of  nature  for  the 
definite  purpose  of  producing  new  forms  of 
plant  life,  for  the  better  nourishment,  housing, 
and  clothing  of  the  race,  and  the  creation  of  new 
fragrances  and  new  shades  of  color  in  flowers 
to  make  life  more  beautiful,  certain  very  definite 
conclusions  regarding  life  and  its  origin  on  this 
and  probably  on  other  planets  have  been  im- 
pressed upon  me. 

Life  is  self-expression — a  challenge  to  environ- 
ment.   It  is  action  in  certain  definite  directions 

53 


54  LUTHER    BURBANK 

based  on  mechanical  and  chemical  change.  In 
nature  we  find  varied  animate  and  inanimate 
forms  of  life,  many  of  which  have  motions — 
some  of  which  in  the  higher  forms  we  call  emo- 
tions. These  sometimes  end  in  action,  at  other 
times  in  thought. 

By  common  consent  we  usually  associate  life 
as  commencing  with  the  unit  of  life — the  indi- 
vidual cell — but  life  really  exists  as  an  organized 
force  in  all  growing  crystals  and  in  a  review  of 
the  fundamentals  of  life  we  must  go  even  to  a 
more  primitive  form  than  that  of  crystal  life; 
below  even  these  we  find,  instead  of  the  organized 
growth  seen  in  crystals,  an  amorphous  life.  The 
substances  called  colloids  have  no  definite  struc- 
ture like  crystals,  yet  they  respond  to  some  of 
the  same  forces  which  act  upon  crystals  and  upon 
individual  unit  cells.  These  colloidal  substances 
have  no  very  well  defined  visible  structural  forms 
like  crystals,  yet  some  of  the  lowest  forms 
of  animal  life,  like  the  amoeba,  are  almost  as 
indefinite  in  form  and  structure;  in  fact,  having 
no  more  definite  form  than  a  piece  of  soft  putty 
or  a  passing  cloud;  just  a  mass  of  jelly,  yet  able 
to  perform  all  the  functions  and  motions  neces- 
sary to  animal  life  in  its  primitive  state. 

Both  crystals,  the  amoeba  and  other  unicellular 
forms,  respond  definitely  to  some  of  the  forces 


EVOLUTION  AND  VARIATION     55 

of  nature,  such  as  gravity,  heat,  and  light;  in 
other  words,  have  the  quality  of  positive  and 
negative  reactions — a  limited  power  of  choice; 
and  from  such  faint  prophecies  of  life,  just 
emerging  from  the  realm  of  chemistry,  have 
come  during  aeons  of  time  all  the  varied  plant 
and  animal  life  on  this  earth,  including  man 
himself. 

In  a  review  of  the  fundamentals  of  life,  we 
may  fairly  commence  with  the  crystal  forms. 
Crystals  grow  when  surrounded  by  a  solution 
which  contains  abundant  nourishment  in  a  tem- 
perature adapted  to  the  species,  but  from  the 
outside,  very  much  like  plants  and  trees  in  which 
the  nourishing  leaf-digested  protoplasmic  sap 
flows  down,  usually  in  the  cambium  between  the 
bark  and  wood,  adding  thin  layers  of  growth 
very  much  after  the  manner  of  silver  plating,  or 
sedimentation  in  muddy  water. 

Crystals,  like  plants  and  animals,  grow  into 
certain  specific  forms  which  may  vary  to  a  cer- 
tain extent  to  accommodate  themselves  to  their 
environment,  for  heredity  and  environment  must 
be  reasonably  well  fitted  to  each  other,  or  life 
always  ceases  to  exist.  The  internal  heredity 
(formerly  acquired)  forces  and  the  external  or 
environmental  forces  must  be  adapted  to  meet 
each  other  somewhat  as  a  garment  fits  the  body, 


56  LUTHER   BURBANK 

not  exactly  but  approximately,  and  the  better 
the  fit  the  more  harmonious  the  conditions 
within. 

Crystals,  like  mushrooms,  may  live  and  grow 
without  the  direct  influence  of  light,  while  most 
plants  depend  wholly  upon  the  action  of  light 
for  life,  and  all  animal  life  depends  absolutely 
and  wholly  for  all  its  nourishment  upon  the 
action  of  sunlight  upon  the  foliage  of  plants. 
All  food  comes  first  from  foliage.  The  sun  feeds 
the  earth  from  its  abundance  and  by  it  life  is 
awakened  and  sustained. 

Unicellular  plant  life  was,  without  any  possible 
doubt,  the  first  form  of  primitive  living  organism 
which  appeared  on  this  planet.  A  cell  is  an 
individual  entity  developed  by  its  environment 
from  more  or  less  amorphous  colloidal  sub- 
stances. It  is  plain  that  to  exist  and  have  an 
individuality  it  must  be  separated  from  the  rest 
of  the  cosmos.  A  cell  is,  in  short,  a  package  of 
protoplasmic  substance  inclosed  from  the  rest  of 
the  cosmos  in  its  protective  covering,  large  or 
small,  usually  very  small.  Protoplasm,  the  base 
of  all  plant  and  animal  life,  is  an  amorphous 
compound  composed  of  various  chemical  sub- 
stances in  a  very  complicated  and  unstable  form, 
as  is  always  the  case  with  all  vegetable  and  ani- 
mal nourishing  foods;  in  other  words,  it  is  an 


EVOLUTION  AND  VARIATION     57 

existence  separated  from  the  rest  of  the  cosmos, 
with  possibilities  of  change,  for  life  does  not 
exist  except  through  change;  it  is  always  chang- 
ing, never  static,  though  it  sometimes  appears  tc 
be  so  in  the  resting  stage,  as  in  seeds,  eggs,  and 
the  hibernating  state  of  plants,  animals,  and  crys- 
tals, all  of  which  appear  to  be  absolutely  dead 
and  as  lifeless  as  a  brick;  but  furnish  them  with 
their  proper  nourishing  food,  in  a  liquid  form 
with  a  temperature  adapted  to  the  heredity  of 
the  species,  and  observe  how  quickly  they  resume 
growth,  even  crystals,  like  plants,  under  the 
proper  environment,  moving  out  of  the  resting 
or  dormant  stage  into  the  full  manifestation  of 
all  their  attributes. 

The  cell,  being  a  protoplasmic  substance  in  an 
envelope — an  individual  mass  of  more  or  less 
complicated  chemical  substances  in  a  very  un- 
stable condition,  separated  from  the  rest  of  the 
cosmos  surrounding  it  by  a  case  or  wall — has 
made  the  first  step  toward  a  more  complete  life. 
Until  such  separation,  there  is  little  opportunity 
for  any  permanent  individual  change  or  evolu- 
tion to  occur. 

The  protoplasm  of  the  amoebic  forms  of  life 
is  compelled  to  lead  a  very  uncertain  existence; 
the  better  conservation  of  life  must  come  from 
a  fuller  individuality.    This  is  assured  by  a  skin 


58  LUTHER   BURBANK 

of  protective  envelope  separating  the  individual 
from  the  rest  of  the  cosmos,  so  that  it  can  enjoy 
individual  life  and  in  no  other  way  could  this 
permanently  be  secured.  Even  chemicals  do  not 
retain  their  individual  character  unless  inclosed 
in  packages  or  bottles  or  cells  of  some  kind, 
so  the  cell  is  a  unit  of  all  individual  life  and  it  is 
very  evidently  necessarily  so,  in  order  to  meet 
the  obstacles  to  full  development  under  oppos- 
ing environment,  but  it  is  plain  that  environ- 
mental obstacles  can  be  more  readily  overcome 
by  a  combination  of  cells.  Of  course  these  cell 
colonies  would,  in  the  very  nature  of  the  circum- 
stances, be  better  adapted  to  survive  than  single 
individuals;  thus  colonies  must  very  naturally 
have  arisen  by  accretion,  producing,  during  the 
lapse  of  ages,  all  the  various  forms  of  vegetable 
and  animal  life  which  the  conditions  on  our 
planet  have  now  brought  and  are  yet  bringing 
forth.  Cell  colonies  must  preserve  their  very 
existence  by  adapting  themselves  to  the  aid  of 
all  other  members  of  the  cell  colony — therefore 
must  become  specialists  in  certain  directions; 
thus  seed,  bark,  wood,  and  leaf  cells  in  plants; 
and  blood,  liver,  brain,  bone,  and  muscle  cells 
in  animal  life,  though  retaining  their  individu- 
ality as  modified  cells,  yet  have  become,  by  stress 
of  environment,  specialists,  for  by  specialization 


EVOLUTION  AND  VARIATION    59 

only  can  the  functions  of  a  colony  be  maintained, 
and  upon  its  integrity  depends  its  continued 
existence;  it  must  depend  upon  specialized 
individuals. 

As  in  multicellular  life,  so  in  the  structure  of  our 
human  social  fabric  individual  human  life  must 
be  specialized  to  a  certain  extent  so  that  we  may 
adapt  ourselves  to  existence  with  one  another. 
Individuals  cannot  exist  except  through  the  mu- 
tual aid  of  one  another.  The  same  laws  govern 
cell  life,  human  life,  all  life.  These  fundamental 
laws  cannot  be  evaded.  They  apply  to  personal, 
social,  and  national  life,  and  any  virtue  or  defect 
in  an  individual  infallibly  affects  the  whole. 

It  has  been  said  that  a  "House  divided  against 
itself  must  fall."  A  plant,  an  animal,  a  man, 
a  society,  a  nation,  a  continent  or  a  world 
whose  individual  units  do  not  cooperate  har- 
moniously^ is  on  the  highroad  to  destruction. 
All  that  is  precious  to  the  whole  human  race 
is  devastated  by  war  which  threatens  to  de- 
stroy from  the  earth  much  that  had  been  built  up 
faithfully  and  painfull}'^  during  centuries  for  the 
best  interests  of  the  race. 

The  Fundamental  Significance  of  Sex 

We  find  these  words  in  a  late  scientific  work 
by  Dr.  L.  Doncaster,  Fellow  of  King's  College, 


dO  LUTHER   BURBANK 

Cambridge,  England;  published  by  the  Univer- 
sity Press: 

It  is  a  remarkable  thing  that  apart  from  the  funda-. 
mental  attributes  of  living  matter — assimilation,  irritability, 
growth,  and  so  forth — no  single  character  is  so  widely  dis- 
tributed as  sex ;  it  occurs  in  some  form  in  every  large  group 
of  plants  and  animals  from  the  highest  to  the  lowest  and 
yet  of  its  true  nature  and  meaning  we  have  hardly  a  sus- 
picion. Other  widely  distributed  characters  have  obvious 
functions;  of  the  real  function  of  sex  we  know  nothing, 
and  in  rare  cases  where  it  seems  to  have  disappeared,  the 
organism  thrives  to  all  appearances  just  as  well  without 
it.  And  in  many  other  cases,  especially  in  plants,  where 
sex  is  definitely  present,  it  may  apparently  be  almost  or 
quite  functionless,  as  for  example,  in  the  considerable  num- 
ber of  plants  which  are  habitually  grown  from  grafts  or 
cuttings,  and  in  which  the  fertile  seeds  are  never  set.  It 
is  of  course  impossible  to  say  with  confidence  that  such 
"asexual"  reproduction  can  go  on  quite  indefinitely,  but  the 
evidence  formerly  adduced  that  continued  vegetative  repro- 
duction leads  to  degeneration  has  been  shown  to  be  of 
doubtful  validity.  Sex,  therefore,  although  it  is  almost 
universally  found,  cannot  be  said  with  certainty  to  be  a 
necessary  attribute  of  living  things,  and  its  real  nature  re- 
mains an  apparently  impenetrable  mystery. 

Now,  after  more  than  fifty  years  of  practical 
experiments  in  the  evolution  of  new  plant  forms, 
the  purpose  of  sex  seems  too  plain  even  to  need 
much  explanation,  much  less  any  doubt  what- 
ever as  to  its  purpose  in  the  scheme  of  things. 


EVOLUTION  AND  VARIATION     61 

Sex  is  not  a  necessary  attribute  of  living  things, 
but  it  is  a  very  necessary  attribute  if  progress  in 
the  evolution  of  new  forms  is  to  occur,  as  they 
have  progressed  through  the  past  ages  and  as  we 
now  see  them  progressing  on  this  planet. 

We  have  lately  learned  that  the  power  to  vary 
in  plants  and  animals  is  as  readily  transmissible 
as  stability  of  character  and  we  also  now  know 
that  plants  and  animals  brought  up  for  genera- 
tions under  different  environments  acquire  dif- 
ferent habits  and  appearances  and,  after  a 
time,  differences  in  structure.  Each  species 
has  had  different  experiences  in  adapting  itself 
to  its  surroundings,  and  no  two  individuals 
of  any  species,  though  having  similar  experi- 
ences, have  exactly  the  same.  By  combination 
the  experiences  of  both  are,  by  heredity,  trans- 
mitted either  latently  or  obviously  to  one  or 
many  of  their  descendants.  This  combination 
by  crossing,  happening  again  and  again,  gives 
added  ability  to  meet  and  overcome  every  chang- 
ing environment;  in  other  words,  the  power  to 
vary  to  meet  varying  environment,  and  by  addi- 
tion fixing  characters  which  benefit  the  species 
through  natural  selection,  giving  the  new  com- 
binations nev\'  abilities  to  advance.  Only  thus, 
through  combination  by  sex,  has  the  marvelous 
variety  of  plants  and  animals  which  now  have 


ORDINARY  FIELD  CORN  AND 
ITS  TINY  PARENT 

In  the  direct-color  photograph  print 
shown  here  a  typical  ear  of  "dent"  corn 
is  placed  for  comparison  heside  the  tiny^ 
half  wildj,  teosinte  ear  which  the  pre- 
historic Indians  discovered  and  im- 
proved. 


EVOLUTION  AND  VARIATION    63 

a  home  on  this  planet,  been  brought  into 
existence. 

The  first  primitive  chemosynthetic  half-plant, 
half-animal  life  forms  without  doubt  commenced 
self-expression  in  and  near  water,  as  we  also  now 
find  them.  These  lower  forms  most  often  multi- 
ply by  spontaneous  breaking  to  pieces  by  fission 
or  simple  division,  and  many  plants  and  some 
animals  even,  which  belong  to  the  higher  orders, 
still  retain  this  power  to  a  certain  extent,  but 
no  race  of  either  plants  or  animals  ever  made 
any  great  evolutionary  advances  until  they  had 
adopted  a  better,  more  specialized  and  more 
economical  means.  The  most  ancient  races  of 
these  early  forms  very  closely  resembled  those 
now  in  existence. 

The  primitive  plan  of  self-division  into  equal 
or  many  parts,  when  replaced  by  the  more  eco- 
nomical and  far  more  effective  one  of  specialized 
cells  to  accomplish  the  same  purpose,  also  made 
possible  the  great  variety  of  life  which  now  exists 
before  us.  The  change  from  the  old  to  the  new 
plan  was  not  immediately  adopted  by  all  life  by 
any  means.  Ages  passed  before  the  liverworts 
and  ferns  appeared,  which  are  among  the  earlier 
forms  of  true  plant  life.  These  bear  no  real 
seeds,  and  the  specialized  cells  are  dependent 
upon  rains  or  other  moving  water  to  carry  them 


64  LUTHER   BURBANK 

to  unite  with  others  to  effect  a  combination  of 
their  heredities.  Variation  must  have  been  almost 
inconceivably  slow  before  this  era  of  more  eco- 
nomical combinations  of  hereditary  acquirements 
occurred.  It  is  progressing  to-day  more  rapidly 
than  ever  since  plants  and  animals  appeared  on 
the  earth.  New  varieties,  new  species,  and  new 
genera  are  all  now  being  produced  more  rapidly 
than  ever  since  the  sun  first  gave  light  to  the 
planet. 

The  pines  and  similar  plants  were  developed 
later.  These  had  employed  another  great  up- 
ward step,  employing  the  wind  to  carry  the  pre- 
cious package  of  heredity  to  another.  Most  of 
the  forest  trees  are  of  this  class ;  they  do  not  vary 
as  do  most  other  flowering  trees  and  plants. 

The  next  step  in  advance  in  this  direction  was 
when  insects  arrived  and  by  cooperation  began 
carrying  the  heredity  packages  of  pollen  from 
place  to  place,  for  which  they  received  in  return 
a  taste  of  honey.  Now  comes  an  era  of  most 
astounding  development.  More  than  a  hundred 
and  forty  thousand  species  were  brought  into 
existence  and  most  annual  plants  and  many 
trees  and  shrubs  and  herbs  now  began,  through 
the  selective  influence  of  insects,  to  produce  more 
conspicuous  and  fragrant  flowers  and  to  secrett 
honey  just  in  the  exact  position  to  induce  insects 


EVOLUTION  AND  VARIATION     65 

to  search  for  it,  and,  in  so  doing,  transfer  hered- 
ity. No  tree  or  plant  that  depends  permanently 
and  wholly  on  water  or  wind  to  carry  heredity 
has  bright  colors,  fragrance,  or  a  secretion  of 
honey,  while  all  which  do  depend  upon  them 
have  one  or  all  of  these  for  inducement  to  the 
insects.  Besides  all  this,  each  species  is  adapted 
to  visits  of  certain  insects,  and  most  often  to  pre- 
vent  others.  The  most  wonderful  and  varied 
structures  in  nature  are  here  to  be  seen.  Is  this 
for  no  purpose  or  for  an  unseen  one  ?  No !  From 
this  fact  of  sex  and  through  its  action  in  com- 
bining heredity  acquirements,  causing  infinitely 
complex  combinations,  the  evolution  into  a  world 
of  a  million  varied  forms  has  been  accomplished. 
Then  why  ask  the  purpose  of  sex?  Is  it  not  self- 
evident,  or  why  call  it  an  impenetrable  mystery? 

After  having  discussed  the  most  vital  aspects 
of  the  matter,  we  may  now  proceed  to  some  very 
definite  conclusions. 

Abundant,  well-balanced  nourishment  and 
thorough  culture  of  plants  or  animals  will  al- 
ways produce  good  results  in  holding  any  spe- 
cies or  variety  up  to  its  best  heredity  possibili- 
ties, beyond  which  it  cannot  carry  them,  and, 
lacking  which,  maximum  development  can  nevei 
be  realized.  But  a  sharp  line  must  always  be 
drawn  between  the  transient  results  temporarily 

Vol.  1 — Bur.  C 


AN   EXPERIMENT    IN 
CORN 

The  ear  of  corn  shown  at  the  left  is 
one  which,  on  an  ordinary  corn  plant, 
was  allowed  to  take  its  course,  except 
that  one-third  of  the  silk  was  cut  away, 
leaving  a  lopsided  ear.  The  other  ear 
is  one  which  was  covered  with  a  paper 
hag  at  the  time  when  the  pollen  was 
falling.  The  strands  of  silk  thus  being 
protected  from  pollen,  the  kernels  be- 
neath did  not  mature.  It  will  he  seen 
from  this  that  the  breezes  are  as  neces- 
sary to  the  corn  plant  as  the  bees  and 
birds  are  to  the  flowers. 


EVOLUTION  AND  VARIATION     67 

attained  through  favorable  environment  and  the 
permanent  results  of  selection  of  the  best  indi- 
viduals for  continuing  the  race. 

What  would  be  the  result  if  all  apple,  plum, 
corn,  melon,  or  petunia  seed  was  indiscriminately 
planted?  Soon  worthless  mongrels  only,  having 
no  character  and  no  value  for  any  purpose. 

Only  by  constant  selection  of  the  best  can  any 
race  ever  be  improved.  No  education,  no  en- 
vironment of  any  nature  can  ever  make  any 
appreciable  progress,  even  though  these  same 
favorable  surroundings  may  produce  through 
ages  a  definite  but  infinitely  slow  increment, 
which  by  constant  repetition  becomes  slowly 
available  in  heredity,  but  through  many  gener- 
ations by  no  means  fixed,  so  that  reproduc- 
tion tl'ue  to  the  better  type  can  be  depended 
upon. 

It  is  becoming  increasingly  necessary  to  im- 
press the  fact  that  there  are  two  distinct  lines  in 
the  improvement  of  any  race;  one  by  favorable 
environment  which  brings  individuals  up  to  their 
best  possibilities;  the  other  ten  thousand  times 
more  important  and  effective — selection  of  the 
best  individuals  through  a  series  of  generations. 
By  this  means,  and  by  crossing,  can  any  race 
of  plants,  animals,  or  man  be  permanently  or 
radically  improved. 


68  LUTHER   BURBANK 

These  facts  being  known,  we  know  how  to 
proceed  and,  difficult  as  it  may  appear,  it  is  the 
only  route  by  which  any  permanent  advances 
can,  or  ever  will,  be  made.  When  these  two 
lines  of  action  are  combined,  all  the  best  quali- 
ties of  any  type  are  brought  forth  and  gradually 
fixed — and  the  field  for  improvement  is  limit- 
less. 


HOW    PLANTS    ADAPT    THEM- 
SELVES TO  CONDITIONS 

The  Influence  of  Environment 

IT  is  the  two  acres  of  spineless  cactus  on  one 
of  my  experiment  farms  which  first  strikes 
the  eye.  On  the  same  grounds  there  are  some 
3,000  other  experiments  under  way — new  flow- 
ers, fruits,  vegetables,  trees,  and  plants  of  all 
descriptions  such  as  man  has  never  before  seen, 
but  the  velvet-leaved  cactus — freed  from  its 
thorns — seems  more  than  a  plant  transforma- 
tion; it  seems  to  some  a  miracle. 

Every  native  plant  growing  on  the  desert  is 
either  bitter,  poisonous,  or  spiny.  It  was  this 
fact  which  gave  me  the  suggestion  for  producing 
this  new  plant — a  plant  which  already  has  shown 
its  ability  to  outdo  alfalfa  five  to  one  in  quantity 
and  which  promises  to  support  our  cattle  on 
much  land  which  has  heretofore  been  considered 
useless,  so  that  our  ranges  may  be  turned  into 
gardens  to  produce  the  vegetable  sustenance  for 
a  multiplying  population. 

69 


ARMORED    AGAINST    ITS 
ENEMIES 

The  spines  of  a  cactus  are  so 
arranged  as  to  protect  every  inch  of 
surface.  In  addition  to  the  large 
bristling  spines  which  fan  out  in  every 
direction,  there  is  hidden  behind  each 
rosette  a  bundle  of  smaller  spines, 
numbering  hundreds  to  each  eye. 
When  the  outward  spines  are  re- 
moved, these  push  their  way  forward 
with  surprising  vigor.  The  form  of 
cactus  in  the  accompanying  picture 
illustrates  the  fact  that  away  bach  in 
history  the  cactus  may  have  had  round 
stalks  instead  of  flat  slabs. 


ENVIRONMENT  71 

Let  us  look  at  the  life  history  of  the  cactus 
as  it  unfolds  itself,  realizing  the  importance  of 
the  simple  fact  that  desert  plants  are  usually 
bitter,  poisonous,  or  spiny. 

Here  are  plants  which  have  the  hardiness  to 
live,  and  to  thrive,  and  to  perpetuate  themselves 
under  conditions  in  which  other  useful  plants 
could  not  thrive. 

Here  are  plants  which,  although  there  may 
not  be  a  drop  of  rain  for  a  year,  two  years,  or 
even  ten,  still  contrive  to  get  enough  moisture 
out  of  the  deep  soil  and  out  of  the  air,  to  build 
up  a  structure  which,  by  weight,  is  92  per  cent 
water — plants  which  contrive  to  absorb  from  the 
scorching  desert,  and  to  protect  from  the  wither- 
ing sun,  enough  moisture  to  make  them  nearly 
as  nutritious  as  beefsteak,  watermelons,  or  pas- 
ture grasses. 

Here  are  plants  which  are  veritable  wells  of 
water,  growing  in  a  land  where  there  are  no 
springs,  or  brooks,  nor  even  clouds  to  encourage 
the  hope  of  a  cooling  rain ;  here  are  plants  which 
are  rich  in  nutriment  for  man  and  the  domestic 
animals;  here  in  the  desert  where  the  demand 
for  food  is  most  needed — and  the  supply  most 
scanty. 

And  here  they  are,  ruined  for  every  useful 
purpose  to  man  by  the  spiny  armor  which  places 


72  LUTHER   BURBANK 

their  store  of  nutriment  and  moisture  beyond 
reach. 

There  is  a  reason  for  these  spines. 

What  other  reason  could  there  be  than  that 
these  are  nature's  provisions  for  self-defense? 

Here  is  the  sagebrush,  with  a  bitterness  as 
irritant  almost  as  the  sting  of  a  bee,  the  euphor- 
bia as  poisonous  as  a  snake,  the  cactus  as  well 
armored  as  a  porcupine — and  for  the  same  rea- 
son that  bees  have  stings,  that  snakes  have  fangs 
that  porcupines  have  arrowlike  spines — for  self- 
protection  from  some  enemy  which  seeks  tc 
destroy. 

Self-preservation  comes  before  self-sacrifice 
in  plant  life  as  it  sometimes  does  in  human 
life. 

The  apple,  cherry,  peach,  and  plum  trees  in 
our  orchards  bear  luscious  fruits  in  abundance; 
the  roses,  geraniums,  and  lilies  surrounding  our 
dwellings  seem  to  compete  to  see  which  may  give 
us  the  greatest  delight. 

But  is  it  not  because  we  have  selected,  fos- 
tered, nurtured,  and  cared  for  them? 

Is  it  not  because  we  have  made  it  easy  for 
them  to  live  and  to  thrive? 

Is  it  not  because  we  have  relieved  them  of  the 
responsibility  of  defense  and  reproduction  that* 
they  have  rewarded  our  kindly  care  by  bloom- 


ENVIRONMENT  73 

ing  and  fruiting,  not  for  their  own  selfish  ends, 
but  for  us? 

We  do  not  cherish  the  wild  cactus  or  the 
poisonous  euphorbia.  We  do  not  cultivate  the 
sagebrush. 

Is  it,  then,  to  be  wondered  at  that  the  primal 
instinct  of  self-preservation  has  prevailed — that 
what  might  have  been  a  food  plant  equal  to  the 
apple  transformed  itself  into  a  wild  porcupine 
among  plants? 

That  which  might  have  been  as  useful  to  cattle 
as  hay  changed  its  nature  and  became  bitter, 
woody,  inedible. 

That  which  might  have  been  a  welcome  friend 
to  the  weary  desert  traveler  grew  instead  into  a 
poisonous  enemy. 

If  the  bitterness,  the  poison,  and  the  spines 
are  means  of  self-defense,  then  they  must  be 
means  which  have  been  acquired.  These  plants 
were  growing  here  before  their  habitation  be- 
came so  arid,  when  animals  had  an  abundance 
of  other  food  instead  of  depending  entirely  upon 
them;  so  there  must  have  been  a  time  in  their 
history  when  they  had  no  need  for  these  various 
defenses. 

How,  in  sixteen  years,  I  have  carried  the 
cactus  back  ages  in  its  ancestry,  proving  satis- 
factorily by  planting  millions   of  cactus   seeds 


74  LUTHER   BURBANK 

that  the  spiny  cactus  descended  from  a  smooth- 
slabbed  line  of  forefathers  and  how  these  old 
characteristics  have  been  not  only  reestablished 
but  accentuated — all  of  these  things  will  be  ex- 
plained in  due  course  where  the  discoveries  in- 
volved and  the  working  methods  employed  may 
be  made  applicable  as  well  to  the  improvement 
of  other  plants. 

It  suffices,  here,  to  say  that,  beginning  with 
this  simple  observation  and  reading  the  history 
of  the  cactus  from  its  present-day  appearance, 
I  was  able  to  see  outlined  the  method  by  which 
a  plant  yielding  rich  food  and  forage  and  most 
delicious  fruits  has  been  produced,  which,  as 
much  as  any  other  plant,  promises  sooner  or 
later  to  solve  the  present-day  problem  of  higher 
living  costs. 

"But,"  I  have  been  asked,  "do  you  mean  that 
the  cactus  foresaw  the  coming  of  an  enemy 
which  was  to  destroy  it?  Is  it  believable  that  a 
plant,  like  a  nation  expecting  war,  could  armor 
itself  in  advance  of  the  necessity?  And  if  the 
cactus  did  not  know  that  an  enemy  was  later  to 
destroy  it,  would  it  not  have  been  destroyed  by 
the  enemy  before  it  had  the  opportunity  of  pre- 
paring a  means  of  defense?" 

Let  us  look  into  the  history  of  the  plant  and 
see  the  answer  to  these  questions. 


ENVIRONMENT  75 

The  facts  are  that  parts  of  Nevada,  Arizona, 
Utah,  and  northern  Mexico  were  once  a  great 
inland  sea — that  the  deserts  now  there  were  the 
bed  of  that  sea  before  it  began  its  long  process 
of  evaporation. 

In  these  regions,  so  far  as  is  known,  all  the 
North  American  cacti  are  supposed  to  have 
originated. 

Back  in  the  ages  before  the  evaporation  of 
the  inland  sea  was  complete,  the  heat  and  mois- 
ture and  the  chemical  constituents  of  the  sandy- 
soil  combined  to  give  many  plants  an  opportu- 
nity to  thrive.  Among  these  was  the  cactus, 
which  was  an  entirely  different  plant  in  appear- 
ance from  the  cactus  of  to-da}^  no  doubt,  with 
well-defined  stalks  and  a  multitude  of  thin  leaves 
like  other  plants. 

As  the  heat,  which  had  lifted  away  the  in- 
land sea,  began  to  parch  the  soil,  the  cactus 
with  the  same  tendency  that  is  shown  by 
every  other  plant  and  every  other  living 
thing,  began  to  adapt  itself  to  the  changing 
conditions. 

It  gradually  dropped  its  leaves  in  order  to 
prevent  too  rapid  transpiration  of  the  precious 
life-supporting  moisture.  It  sent  its  roots  deeper 
and  deeper  into  the  damp  substratum  Avhich  the 
sun  had  not  yet  reached.    It  thickened  its  stalks 


IMPROVED  AND  WILD  CACTI 
STILL  BEAR  LEAVES 

In  the  days  of  the  long  past  and 
before  the  anijtials  had  begun  their 
work  of  devastation,  the  plant  had 
leaves  like  other  plants.  That  this  is 
so  is  evidenced  by  the  fact  that  cactus 
slabs  even  now  put  forth  these  leaves  in 
rudimentary  form,  the  evidence  of  an 
old  tendency  which  has  not  been  entirely 
obliterated.  Shortly  after  the  tiny  leaves 
come  out,  as  shown  in  this  color  photo- 
graph print,  they  fall  away  to  be  fol- 
lowed by  the  spines  which  push  out  be- 
hind them.  On  all  varieties  these  rudi- 
mentary leaves  are  soft  and  tender — 
not  spiny. 


ENVIRONMENT  77 

into  broad  slabs.  It  lowered  its  main  source  of 
life  and  sustenance  far  beneath  the  surface  of 
the  ground  and  found  it  possible  thus  to  persist 
and  to  prosper. 

Perhaps  there  were,  in  the  making  of  the 
desert,  other  plants  not  so  adaptable  as  the 
cactus,  plants  which  perished  and  of  which  man 
has  no  knowledge  or  record. 

And  so,  we  may  assume,  the  cactus  and  those 
other  plants  which  adapted  themselves  to  the 
new  conditions  crowded  out  those  which  were 
unable  to  fit  themselves  to  survive  under  these 
gradually  changing  conditions. 

But  there  came  animals  to  the  bed  of  this  one- 
time sea,  attracted,  perhaps,  by  the  cactus  and 
its  contemporaries,  which  offered  them  food  of 
satisfying  flavor  and  easy  access. 

Of  the  plants  which  had  survived  the  evapora- 
tion of  the  sea  and  the  heat  of  the  broiling  sun, 
there  were  many,  quite  likely,  which  failed  to 
survive  the  new  danger— the  onslaught  of  the 
animals. 

Species  by  species  the  vegetation  of  the  desert 
was  thinned  out  by  the  elements  and  by  the 
animals;  and  the  animals,  with  plant  life  to  feed 
on,  multiplied  themselves  in  ever-increasing 
hordes,  till  perhaps  the  cactus  was  but  one  of  a 
hundred  plants  to  survive. 


78  LUTHER   BURBANK 

Then  came  the  fight  of  the  cactus  to  outdo  the 
beasts  which  sought  to  devour  it — the  fight  as  a 
family,  and  the  fight  within  the  family  to  see 
which  of  its  individuals  should  be  found  fit  to 
persist. 

Of  a  million  cactus  plants  eaten  to  the  ground 
by  ravenously  hungry  antelopes,  we  will  say — 
antelopes  which  had  increased  in  numbers  j^^ear 
by  year  while  their  food  supply  year  by  year  was 
relentlessly  dwindling — of  these  million  plants 
gnawed  down  to  the  roots,  perhaps  but  a  thou- 
sand or  two  had  the  stamina  to  throw  out  new 
leaves  and  to  try  over  again. 

It  is  a  well  known  fact  that  plants  which  are 
pliable  enough  to  change  their  characteristics 
under  changed  conditions,  more  readily  adapt 
themselves  to  still  newer  conditions. 

As  in  its  previous  experience,  the  cactus  had 
changed  the  character  of  its  stalk,  so  now  it 
undertook  another  change — the  acquisition  of  an 
armor. 

This  armor  probably  at  first  consisted  of 
nothing  but  a  soft  protuberance,  a  modified  fruit 
bud  or  leaf,  perhaps,  ineffectual  in  warding  off 
the  onslaughts  of  the  hungry  animals. 

So,  of  the  thousand  or  two  left  out  of  the 
millions,  there  may  have  been  but  a  hundred 
which  were  able  to  ward  off  destruction. 


ENVIRONMENT  79 

The  hundred,  stronger  than  the  rest,  though 
eaten  to  the  ground  were  able  still  to  send  up 
new  leaves,  and  with  each  new  crop  the  hairs 
became  stiffer  and  longer,  the  protuberances 
harder  and  more  pointed,  until  finally,  if  there 
were  even  only  one  surviving  representative  of  the 
race,  there  was  developed  a  cactus  which  was  effec- 
tually armored  against  its  every  animal  enemy. 

One  such  surviving  cactus,  as  transformed 
throughout  ages  of  time,  meeting  new  conditions 
with  changes  so  slight  perhaps  as  to  be  almost 
imperceptible,  but  gradually  accommodating  it- 
self to  the  conditions  under  which  it  lived  and 
grew — one  such  survivor  out  of  all  the  billions 
of  cactus  plants  that  have  ever  grown  would 
have  been  sufficient  to  have  covered  the  deserts  of 
America  with  its  progeny — to  have  produced  all 
of  the  thorny  cacti  which  we  have  on  earth  to-day. 

The  cactus  did  not  prepare  in  advance  to  meet 
an  enemy — it  simply  adapted  itself  gradually  to 
changing  environment  as  all  vegetable  and 
animal  life  on  the  earth  must — or  perish.  First, 
surviving  the  desert  drought  and  the  broiling 
sun,  it  threw  its  roots  deep  into  the  earth  for  the 
scanty  moisture.  Then,  attacked  by  enemies 
which  ate  off  the  leaves,  it  still  had  life  and  re- 
sistance to  try  again.  Ineffectually,  at  first,  it 
began  to  build  its  armor,  but  each  discourage- 


CONTRASTING  TYPES  OF 
CACTUS 

At  the  left,  a  colony  of  the  spine- 
less cactus  called  the  "Tapuna';  at 
the  right  a  quite  different  type  called 
the  "Tuna."  Like  all  my  spineless  cac- 
tuses, these  are  crossbred  seedlings;  and 
they  are  of  closely  similar  lineage,  not- 
withstanding their  widely  different  ap- 
pearance. An  instance  of  the  segrega- 
tion  of  hereditary  characters. 


ENVIRONMENT  81 

ment  proved  but  the  incentive  to  another  at- 
tempt. It  is  a  vivid  picture;  the  whole  cactus 
family  in  a  death  struggle  for  supremacy  over 
enemies  Avhich  threaten  its  very  existence  — 
millions  and  millions  of  the  family  perishing  in 
the  struggle,  and  perhaps  but  one  victorious  sur- 
vivor left  to  start  a  new  and  armored  race. 

It  is  wonderful,  but  whenever  we  plant  a 
cactus  slab  to-day  we  see  evidences  of  adapta- 
bility even  more  wonderful  than  this. 

The  slab  of  cactus  is  an  olive  green  color  as 
we  put  it  in  the  ground.  It  is  flat,  of  an  oval 
shape,  an  inch  or  less  in  thickness.  Its  internal 
structure  is  of  a  soft  juicy  texture — like  most 
succulent  vegetables  largely  water. 

As  the  slab  sends  down  roots,  it  begins  to  pre- 
pare itself  to  bear  the  burden  of  the  other  slabs 
which  are  to  grow  above  it. 

The  thin,  flat  shape  thickens  out  until  it  is 
almost  spherical;  thus  presenting  a  curved  sur- 
face in  four  directions  instead  of  in  two,  it  braces 
itself  against  the  winds  which  will  endanger  the 
tender  new  slabs  far  above  it. 

Its  tender  woody  fibers  grow  tough  and  re- 
sistant; it  loses  its  velvety  skin  and  develops  a 
bark  like  that  of  a  tree. 

Within  a  year  after  planting,  this  cactus  slab 
will  have  changed  in  appearance  and  in  char- 


82  LUTHER    BURBANK 

acteristics  to  lit  itself  to  the  new  conditions  which 
surround  it. 

It  will  have  changed  its  structure  to  bear 
weight  and  stand  strains.  It  will  have  modified 
its  internal  mechanism  to  transmit  moisture  in- 
stead of  to  store  it.  It  will  have  remodeled  its 
outer  skin  to  protect  itself  from  the  ground 
animals  from  which  it  had  no  reason  to  fear 
destruction  while  growing  higher  up  on  the 
parent  plant. 

Is  it  more  wonderfid  that,  unseen  by  us,  a 
plant  should  have  adapted  itself  to  the  desert 
and,  through  the  ages,  have  armored  itself 
against  an  enemy,  than  that,  before  our  ej^s, 
in  a  single  year,  it  should  meet  changed  condi- 
tions in  an  equally  effective  way? 

Is  it  more  wonderful  that  it  should  grow 
spines  than  it  should  grow  slabs  which  in  turn 
have  the  power  to  grow  other  slabs? 

Is  not  the  really  wonderful  thing  the  fact  that 
it  grows  at  all  ? 

The  cactus  is  one  of  the  most  plastic  of  plants 
— educated  up  to  this,  perhaps,  by  the  hardships 
and  battles  through  which  its  ancestry  has 
fought  its  way. 

A  slip  cut  from  a  rosebush,  for  example,  must 
be  planted  in  carefully  prepared  ground  of  a 
suitable  kind,  at  a  certain  season  of  the  year, 


ENVIRONMENT  83 

with  regard  to  moisture  and  temperature — it 
must  be  watched  and  cared  for  until  it  takes  root 
and  is  able  to  care  for  itself.  The  rose  has  evi- 
dentty  not  had  as  severe  a  struggle  as  the  cactus. 

But  the  cactus,  having  developed  itself  under 
the  most  discouraging  conditions  needs  no  such 
care.  Every  one  of  the  fifty  or  more  wartlike 
eyes  on  its  every  slab  is  competent  to  throw  out 
a  root,  a  fruit,  or  another  slab — whichever  the 
occasion  seems  to  warrant. 

Lay  a  cactus  slab  on  hard  ground,  unscratched 
by  a  hoe,  and  the  eyes  of  its  under  side  will  throw 
long  white  roots  downward,  while  the  eyes  on 
the  upper  side  await  their  opportunity,  once  the 
slab  is  rooted,  to  throw  other  slabs  and  blossoms 
upward. 

As  the  tiny  buds  grow  from  the  eyes,  it  is 
impossible  by  sight  or  microscopic  examination 
to  determine  which  will  be  roots,  which  will  be 
fruits,  or  which  will  be  other  slabs.  It  is  as 
though  the  cactus,  inured  by  hardship  and  pre- 
pared for  any  emergency,  waits  until  the  very 
last  possible  moment  to  settle  upon  the  best- 
suited  means  of  reproduction — as  though  the 
bud,  having  started,  becomes  a  root  if  it  finds 
encouragement  for  roots,  or  a  fruit  if  seed  seems 
desirable,  or  an  upward  slab  if  this  can  be  sup- 
ported. 


84.  LUTHER    BURBANK 

Nor  does  its  attempt  at  reproduction  require 
much  encouragement.  Fifty  young  cactus  slabs 
laid  on  a  burlap-covered  wooden  shelf  four  feet 
above  ground  were  found  to  have  thrown  long 
roots  down  through  the  burlap  and  through  the 
cracks  of  the  boards  within  a  few  days. 

A  cactus  plant  pulled  from  the  ground  and 
tied  by  a  string  to  the  branch  of  a  tree  remained 
hanging  in  the  air  for  six  years  and  eight  months. 
During  this  time  it  had  no  source  of  nourishment 
and  its  slabs  shriveled  and  turned  a  light  brown. 
By  planting  these  slabs  in  the  ground  they  im- 
mediately took  root  and  within  a  few  weeks 
began  to  throw  out  buds  and  new  slabs. 

A  detached  cactus  slab,  long  forgotten  in  a 
closet,  after  having  been  in  the  dark  for  more 
than  two  years,  was  found  to  have  thrown  out  a 
sickly  looking  baby  slab. 

The  more  the  adaptability  of  the  present-day 
cactus  and  its  tenacious  hold  on  life  are  observed, 
the  easier  it  becomes  to  understand  its  successful 
fight  against  its  numerous  enemies  which  lived 
during  the  desert-forming  age,  and  to  see  the 
origin  of  the  thorny  cactus  of  to-day. 

Nor  is  the  cactus  the  only  desert  plant  which 
shows  evidences  of  such  a  struggle. 

The  goldenrods  of  the  desert  are  more  bitter 
than  the  goldenrods  of  the  plains. 


ENVIRONMENT  85 

The  wormwood  of  the  desert  is  more  bitter 
even  than  the  wormwood  which  grows  where 
there  have  been  fewer  enemies. 

The  yuccas,  the  aloes,  the  euphorbias,  all  have 
counterparts  in  their  families,  which,  needing 
less  protection,  show  less  bitterness,  less  poison, 
fewer  spines. 

And  even  rare  cactus  plants  from  protected 
localities,  and  those  of  the  less  edible  varieties, 
give  evidence,  by  the  fewness  of  their  spines,  that 
their  family  struggle  has  been  less  intense  than 
the  struggle  of  the  cactus  which  found  itself 
stranded  in  the  bed  of  a  former  inland  sea. 

Plants  which  have  shown  even  greater  adap- 
tive powers  than  the  cactus  are  to  be  found  in 
the  well-known  alg^e  family. 

One  branch  of  this  family  furnishes  an  apt 
illustration  of  the  scant  nourishment  to  which  a 
plant  may  adapt  itself. 

Microscopic  in  size,  it  lives  its  life  on  the  upper 
crust  of  the  Arctic  snow  storing  up  enough  en- 
ergy in  the  summer,  when  the  sun's  rays  liquefy  a 
thin  film  of  water  on  the  icy  surface,  to  sustain 
life  in  a  dormant  stage  during  the  northern 
winter's  six  months  of  night. 

With  nothing  but  the  moisture  yielded  from 
the  snow,  and  what  nutriment  it  can  gather  from 
the  air,  this  plant,  called  the  red  snow  plant. 


VESTIGIAL    LEAVES 

The  ijrojections  here  shown  on  one 
of  the  older  slabs  are  vestigial  leaves. 
An  account  of  them,  with  reference  to 
their  evolutionary  meaning,  is  given  in 
this  volume.  They  are  all  that  remain 
of  the  leaves  that  the  cactus  once  bore; 
and  these  reminiscent  leaves  drop  off 
very  shortly  after  coming  out,  leavirig 
my  new  varieties  as  smooth  as  velvet. 


ENVIRONMENT  87 

multiplies  and  prospers  to  the  extent  that  it 
covers  whole  hillsides  of  snow  like  a  blanket — 
covers  them  so  completely  that  the  reddish  color 
of  the  plant,  imparted  to  the  snow,  first  gave  rise 
to  the  tales  of  far  northern  travelers  as  to  the 
color  of  the  snowfall  and  explained  the  apparent 
phenomenon  of  red  snow. 

Another  division  of  this  family,  at  the  oppo- 
site extreme,  thrives  in  the  waters  of  Arrow- 
head Sulphur  Springs  in  California — lives  its 
life  and  reproduces  itself  in  water  so  hot  that 
eggs  may  be  easily  cooked  in  it. 

In  addition  to  these  microscopic  members,  one 
thriving  on  the  Arctic  snows,  the  other  in 
water  at  nearly  the  boiling  point,  there  is  still 
another  member  of  this  family  which  has  formed 
the  largest  plant  colony  in  the  world.  This,  the 
gigantic  growth  of  the  Sargasso  Sea,  consists  of 
a  small  seaweed  wrenched  from  the  coast  and 
forms  a  huge  tangled,  floating  mass. 

And  so  on;  some  of  this  family  of  the  algse 
grow  on  and  in  animals,  some  on  other  plants, 
some  on  iron,  some  on  dry  rocks,  some  in  fresh 
water,  and  some  in  the  salt  seas. 

The  monkey-puzzle  trees,  Araucarias,  show 
an  adaptability  to  environment  as  striking  as 
that  of  the  cactus — although  for  a  wholly  dif- 
ferent purpose. 


88  LUTHER   BURBANK 

At  the  top  of  this  monkey-puzzle  tree,  so 
called,  are  borne  several  very  large  cones  con- 
taining the  large  niitlike  seeds  of  the  tree. 

In  the  case  of  the  cactus  the  thorns  were  de- 
veloped to  protect  the  plant  itself  from  destruc- 
tion but  in  the  case  of  the  monkey-puzzle  tree 
the  animals  threatened  not  the  tree  itself,  but  its 
offspring — its  nuts  were  so  highly  prized  by  the 
monkeys,  and  their  number  was  so  few,  that  it 
was  forced  to  take  protective  measures  to  keep 
its  seed  out  of  the  reach  of  enemies. 

From  this  we  begin  to  see  that  each  plant  has 
its  own  family  individuality,  its  own  family  per- 
sonality. Some  plants,  in  order  to  insure  repro- 
duction, produce  hundreds  or  thousands  of  seeds, 
relying  on  the  fact  that  in  an  oversupply  a  few 
will  likely  be  saved  and  germinated;  while  other 
plants  producing  only  a  few  seeds  protect  them 
with  hard  shells  or  bitter  coverings,  or,  as  in  the 
case  of  the  monkey-puzzle  tree,  with  sharp  spines 
at  the  tip  of  every  leaf  and  all  over  the  branches. 

In  the  deep  canyons  of  California's  mountains 
there  grows  a  member  of  the  lily  family,  the 
trillium. 

Near  the  bottom  of  these  canyons  there  are 
places  where  the  sunshine  strikes  but  one  side. 
The  flowers  on  the  shady  side  of  the  canyons  are 
larger,  and  the  leaves  of  the  plants  are  broader. 


ENVIRONMENT  89 

and  the  bulbs  are  smaller  and  nearer  the  surface 
than  those  of  the  plants  which  grow  where  the 
sun  reaches  them. 

On  the  other  side  of  the  same  canyons  the 
bulbs  grow  larger  and  deep  in  the  soil,  and  the 
leaves  and  the  blossoms  transform  themselves  to 
conserve  moisture. 

Which  was  all  that  the  cactus  did  when  the  sea 
was  turned  into  a  desert. 

About  the  geysers  of  Sonoma  County,  and 
scattered  over  other  arid  portions  of  California, 
Arizona,  and  Mexico,  there  are  a  group  of  pines 
(Pinus  tuherculata,  muricata,  attenuata,  chihua- 
huana)  having  most  remarkable  characteristics, 
evidently  having  been  subjected  in  long  ages 
past  to  frequent  fires,  probably  often  started  by 
the  fires  of  this  and  other  volcanic  regions.  The 
ground  in  the  vicinity  of  the  locality  chosen  by 
these  pines  is  sometimes  even  yet  so  hot  that  it 
is  difficult  to  walk  over  it,  even  with  heavy  boots, 
without  burning  the  feet.  There  must  have  been 
a  time,  as  all  the  evidence  shows,  when  fires  were 
quite  common  from  volcanic  action,  and  these 
pines  have  learned  a  lesson  which  no  other  pines 
or  other  coniferous  trees  on  this  earth  have  had 
to  learn. 

The  cones  of  most  pines  take  two  years  in  which 
to  mature  the  seed,  and  all  other  pines  open  once 


A   BEAUTIFUL    FLOWERING 
CACTUS 

TJiis  is  the  cactus  known  as  OjJuntia 
hasilaris,  a  low-spreading  form  that 
makes  a  very  striking  contrast  with  the 
giant  spineless  opuntias.  The  present 
species  is  too  small  to  he  of  any  value 
as  a  forage  plant,  hut  its  flowers  give  it 
high  rank  as  a  border  plant  for  the 
garden.  The  color  of  the  flower  is  far 
more  brilliant  than  the  picture^ 


ENVIRONMENT  91 

each  two  years  at  the  proper  season  to  distribute 
their  seeds.  The  seeds  of  other  pines  do  not  re- 
tain their  vitahty  and  ability  to  grow  even  after 
the  third  year.  The  Geyser  pines  produce  cones 
in  great  abundance  in  circles  around  the  trunk 
and  branches  when  much  younger  than  other 
pines — sometimes  when  only  two  or  three  feet 
in  height.  The  cones  of  these  pines  remain 
closed  on  the  trees  so  persistently  that  the  new 
wood  sometimes  grows  over  them,  surrounding 
them  completely,  but  the  seeds,  even  in  these 
cases,  remain  in  best  growing  condition  after 
their  long  imprisonment  in  the  wood.  The  cones 
never  open  to  distribute  the  seed  until  a  fire 
sweeps  over  the  land,  when  those  which  have 
been  gathering  on  the  trees,  perhaps  for  thirty 
or  forty  years,  immediately  open  and  soon  after 
scatter  the  seed,  from  which  the  young  pines 
often  come  up  as  thick  as  grass  on  a  lawn.  Of 
course  some  of  these  succumb  to  the  crowding  of 
their  neighbors,  but  what  a  wonderful  adaptabil- 
ity these  pines  have  shown;  a  lesson  which  no 
other  pine  has  been  obliged  to  learn.  In  learn- 
ing these  hard  lessons  which  have  become  so 
deeply  fixed  in  heredity,  innumerable  individuals 
have  taken  part,  for  time  is  generally  the 
chief  factor,  and  they  can  be  fixed  only  by 
repetition. 


92  LUTHER    BURBANK 

Let  the  cactus,  battle-scarred  and  inured  to 
hardship,  teach  us  our  first  great  lesson  in  plant 
improvement : 

That  our  plants  are  what  they  are  because  of 
environment;  that  simply  by  observing  their 
structures,  their  tendencies,  their  habits,  their  in- 
dividual peculiarities,  we  can  read  their  histories 
back  ages  and  ages  before  there  were  men  and 
animals — read  it,  almost,  as  an  open  book;  that 
our  plants  have  lived  their  lives  not  by  quiet 
rote  and  rule,  but  in  a  turmoil  of  emergency; 
and,  just  as  they  have  always  changed  with  their 
surroundings,  so  now,  day  by  day,  they  continue 
to  change  to  fit  themselves  to  new  environments ; 
and  that  we,  to  bring  forth  new  characteristics  in 
them,  to  transform  them  to  meet  our  ideals,  have 
but  to  surround  them  with  new  environments — 
not  at  haphazard,  but  along  the  lines  of  our 
definite  desires. 


It  is  far  more  wonderful  even  that 
plants  grow  at  all  than  that  they 
can  so  readily  adapt  themselves  to 
changing  conditions. 


TWENTY-THREE  POTATO 

SEEDS  AND  WHAT 

THEY  TAUGHT 

A  Glimpse  at  the  Influence  of 
Heredity 

THE  springtime  buds  unfold  into  leaves 
before  our  eyes — without  our  seeing  them 
unfold.  We  have  grown  accustomed  to 
look  for  bare  limbs  in  March ;  to  find  them  hidden 
by  heavy  foliage  in  May ;  and  because  the  process 
is  slow,  and  because  it  goes  on  always,  every- 
where about  us,  we  are  apt  to  count  it  common- 
place. 

Just  as  we  can  understand  that  the  tree  in  our 
yard,  responding  to  its  environment — to  the 
April  showers,  to  the  warm  noons  of  May,  to  the 
heat  of  summer  and  to  the  final  chill  of  fall — has 
completed  a  transformation  in  a  year,  so,  too, 
can  we  more  easily  understand  the  gradual  trans- 
formation of  the  cactus  in  an  age.  We  can  also 
realize  that  the  individual  steps  between  the  first 
ineffectual   hairy    protuberance,    and    the    final 

93 


94  LUTHER   BURBAXK 

spiny  armor,  each  a  stronger  attempt  to  respond 
to  environment,  were  perhaps  so  gradual  as  to 
be  imperceptible. 

But  those  rudimentary,  half -formed  leaves 
which  come  forth  from  every  eye  of  the  cactus 
slab  before  the  thorns  or  fruits  come  out — those 
leaves  which,  no  longer  serving  any  useful  pur- 
pose, soon  turn  yellow,  die,  and  fall  off — which 
environment  has  acted  to  reject  though  once 
of  fundamental  importance  to  the  plant? 

And  those  two  smooth  slabs  that  push  out 
when  the  tiny  seedling  has  just  poked  its  thorny 
head  above  the  ground — why  should  they  be 
smooth  while  the  first  central  leaf  is  thorny? 

How  shall  we  account  for  this  tendency  in  a 
plant  to  jump  out  of  its  own  surroundings,  and 
out  of  the  surroundings  of  its  parents,  and  their 
parents  and  those  before  them — and  to  respond 
to  the  influences  which  surround  an  extinct  an- 
cestor— to  hark  back  to  the  days  when  the  desert 
was  the  moist  bottom  of  an  evaporating  sea  and 
before  the  animals  came  to  destroy? 

A  group  of  scientists  were  chatting  with  me 
once  when  a  chance  remark  on  heredity  led  one 
of  them  to  tell  this  bear  story: 

It  seems  that  a  baby  bear  had  been  picked  up 
by  miners  within  a  few  days  after  its  birth — be- 
fore its  eyes  had  opened.    The  cub,  in  fact,  was 


INFLUENCE    OF    HEREDITY      95 

so  small  that  it  was  carried  several  miles  to  the 
camp  tied  in  the  sleeve  of  the  coat  of  one  of  the 
miners. 

Raised  to  adult  bearhood  by  these  miners, 
without  ever  having  seen  another  bear — relieved 
of  the  necessity  of  finding  its  own  food  and  re- 
moved from  the  wild  environment  of  its  ancestors 
— ^this  bear  had  become  as  thoroughly  domesti- 
cated, almost,  as  a  tabby  cat. 

What  would  such  a  bear  do  if  thrown  on  its 
own  resources?  Would  it  have  to  begin  at  the 
beginning  to  learn  bear-lore? 

Bears  are  great  salmon  fishers,  for  example. 

But  is  this  skill  taught  by  the  mother  to  the 
baby  bear — or  is  it  a  part  of  every  bear  at  birth  ? 
That  was  the  question  of  interest. 

When  the  animal  had  arrived  at  maturity,  it 
was  taken,  one  day,  to  a  shallow  salmon  stream. 

Here  was  a  bear  which  had  never  fished  for 
salmon,  and  had  never  tasted  fish;  a  bear  which, 
if  bears  have  a  language,  had  not  received  a 
moment  of  instruction  in  self-support;  a  bear 
which,  taken  before  its  eyes  were  open,  had  never 
seen  its  mother,  had  never  known  an  influence 
outside  of  the  artificial  atmosphere  of  the  mining 
camp. 

Brought  to  the  salmon  stream,  however,  there 
was  not  an  instant  of  delaj^;  it  glanced  about, 


96  LUTHER   BURBANK 

located  a  natural  point  of  vantage,  straddled  the 
brook  with  its  face  downstream,  and  bending 
over,  with  upraised  right  paw,  waited  for  the 
salmon  to  come. 

It  did,  unhesitatinglij ,  just  what  any  normal 
wild-raised  hear  would  have  done. 

With  wonderful  dexterity  it  was  able  to  scoop 
the  onrushing  salmon  out  of  the  stream  and  to 
throw  them  in  an  even  pile  on  the  bank  with  a 
single  motion. 

As  other  bears  would  do,  this  domesticated 
bruin  stood  over  the  stream  until  it  had  accumu- 
lated a  considerable  pile  of  the  salmon  on  the 
bank. 

Going  to  this  pile  it  quickly  sorted  over  the 
fish,  making  now  two  piles  instead  of  one — with 
all  the  male  salmon  in  one  pile  and  all  the  female 
salmon  in  the  other. 

Then,  with  its  sharp  claw,  it  proceeded  to 
split  open  the  female  salmon  and  to  extract 
the  roe,  which  it  ate  v\'ith  relish.  This  con- 
sumed, it  finished  its  meal  on  the  other  meat 
of  the  fish. 

Untaught,  it  recognized  salmon  as  food;  dis- 
tinguished males  from  females;  knew  the  roe  as 
a  special  delicacy.  Unpracticed,  it  knew,  in- 
stantly, just  how  to  fish  for  salmon  and  how  to 
find  the  roe. 


INFLUENCE    OF    HEREDITY      97 

Right  here  on  this  experiment  farm  you  may 
find  hundreds  of  evidences  of  heredity  more 
striking  than  that — more  striking  because  they 
are  the  evidences  of  heredity  in  plant  life,  in- 
stead of  in  animal  life. 

Here  you  will  find  plants  which  show  tenden- 
cies unquestionably  inherited  from  a  line  of  an- 
cestry going  back  perhaps  ten  thousand  years 
or  more — tendencies,  some  of  them,  which  now 
seem  strangely  out  of  place  because  the  condi- 
tions which  gave  rise  to  them  in  their  ancestors 
no  longer  exist;  tendencies  like  those  of  the 
cactus,  the  rose,  and  the  blackberry  to  protect 
themselves  from  wild  beasts  when  wild  beasts  are 
no  longer  enemies ;  tendencies  to  deck  themselves 
in  colors  designed  to  attract  the  insects  of  a  for- 
gotten age — insects  which,  perhaps,  no  man  has 
ever  seen. 

iWhere  some  incredulity  might  be  expressed 
as  to  whether  the  bear  had  not  actually  been 
taught  to  fish  for  salmon,  or  seen  another  bear 
perform  the  act,  there  can  be  no  such  question 
in  the  case  of  heredity  in  plants. 

Here  in  this  bed  of  sweet  peas  is  a  plant  which 
has  inherited  the  climbing,  twining  tendency. 

This  is  an  evidence  that,  at  some  time  back  in 
its  history,  this  plant  has  probably  been  crowded 
for  room.    Plants  which  grow  high  do  so  usually 

Vol.  1 — Bur.  D 


98  LUTHER    BURBANK 

because,  at  some  stage  in  their  existence,  they 
have  had  to  grow  high  to  get  the  sun  and  air 
which  they  need.  Low-lying  plants,  like  the 
pumpkin  for  example,  give  evidence  that  they 
have  always  enjoyed  plenty  of  space  in  which 
to  spread  out. 

It  might  be  thought  that  the  bear  in  the  story 
may  possibly  have  slipped  away,  imknown  to  its 
keepers,  and  seen  another  bear  fish  for  salmon; 
but  if  these  tendencies  and  traits,  and  if  the 
ability  to  perform  the  feats  necessary  for  exist- 
ence are  not  passed  down  from  mother  to  son — 
if  they  do  not  come  down  through  the  line  of 
ancestry,  if  all  of  the  old  environments  of  the 
past  have  not  accumulated  into  transmissible 
heredity,  what  enables  that  sweet  pea  to 
climb  upon  some  support  to  reach  the  needed 
hght? 

A  closer  observation  of  the  sweet  pea  will  show 
us  that  its  tendrils  are  really  modified  leaves, 
produced  like  the  spines  of  the  cactus,  by  ages  of 
environment  which,  added  up,  combine  to  make 
heredity;  and  that  their  actual  sensitiveness  to 
touch  is  so  highly  developed  that  they  adroitly 
encircle  and  hold  fast  to  any  suitable  support 
within  their  reach. 

It  would  be  interesting  to  take  a  motion 
picture  of  the  sweet  pea  as  it  grows,  as  similar 


INFLUENCE    OF    HEREDITY      99 

motion  pictures  have  been  taken;  making  sepa- 
rate exposures,  one  every  three  minutes  instead 
of  fifteen  or  sixteen  to  the  second,  so  that  the 
reel  would  cover  a  period  of  fifteen  days;  then, 
with  a  fifteen-day  history  recorded  on  the  fihn,  to 
run  it  through  the  projecting  lantern  at  the  rate 
of  fifteen  or  sixteen  pictures  to  the  second,  thus 
showing  in  seven  or  eight  minutes  the  motions 
of  growth  which  actually  took  fifteen  days  to 
accomplish;  on  the  screen  before  us,  with  quick 
darting  motions,  we  should  see  the  sweet  pea 
wriggle  and  writhe  and  squirm — we  should  see 
it  wave  its  tendrils  around  in  the  air,  feeling  out 
every  inch  within  its  reach  for  possible  supports 
on  which  to  twine. 

We  should  see,  by  condensing  half  a  month  of 
its  life  into  an  eight-minute  reel,  that  this  sweet 
pea  has  inherited  an  actual  intelligence — slow  in 
its  operation,  but  positive,  certain — an  inherited 
intelligence  which  would  be  surprising  even  in 
an  animal. 

Throughout  all  plant  life  we  find  these  unde- 
niable evidences  of  environment  having  affected 
heredity. 

Here,  for  example,  are  two  tiny  seedlings 
which  look  almost  alike.  They  are  distinctly 
related.  One  is  the  acacia  (A.  mollissima)  and 
the  other  the  sensitive  plant   (Mimosa  pudica). 


100  LUTHER   BURBANK 

jNIucli  as  these  plants  look  alike,  they  bear 
witness  to  the  fact  that  they  have  within  them 
two  entirely  different  strains  of  heredity. 

The  acacia  will  permit  us  to  touch  it  and 
handle  it  without  showing  signs  of  disturbance. 

But  its  cousin  in  the  same  soil,  and  of  the  same 
size,  immediately  folds  up  its  leaves,  in  self-pro- 
tection, at  the  slightest  touch. 

From  this  we  read  the  fact  that  one  branch  of 
this  family  has  found  it  necessary  to  perfect  a 
form  of  self-defense,  while  the  other  has  had  no 
such  experience  in  its  life  history. 

The  acacia  being  a  tree  which  grows  out  of 
the  reach  of  browsing  animals,  while  the  sensitive 
plant  is  a  low-growing  succulent  tender  plant, 
the  acacia  needs  no  thorns,  and  has  none,  while 
the  sensitive  plant  has  the  added  defense  of 
numerous  thorns. 

I  have  been  much  interested  lately  in  an  ex- 
periment with  clover — in  producing  clover  leaves 
with  wonderful  markings. 

The  only  way  in  which  I  can  account  for  the 
markings  with  which  some  clover  leaves  will  be- 
deck themselves  is  that,  in  the  heredity  of  the 
plant,  there  was  a  time  when,  not  being  poison- 
ous itself,  it  tried  to  simulate  the  appearance  of 
some  poisonous  plant  to  protect  itself  from 
insects  or  other  enemies. 


INFLUENCE    OF   HEREDITY     101 

At  first  thought  it  might  require  a  stretch  of 
the  imagination  to  understand  how  this  could  be 
— yet  a  closer  inquiry  shows  that  the  process  was 
as  gradual  and  as  surely  progressive  as  the  trans- 
formation of  the  cactus. 

In  clover,  as  with  all  other  plants,  there  has 
always  been  variation — some  few  individuals 
have  always  had  the  white  and  black  markings. 

At  some  time  in  the  history  of  the  plant  those 
without  the  markings  may  have  been  destroyed, 
and  so,  responding  to  this  new  environment,  the 
markings  became  more  and  more  pronoimced 
until  now  we  have  not  only  white  triangular 
markings,  but  deep  black  splotches  and  red  and 
yellow  colors  intermixed  in  curious  figures. 

From  these  markings  we  can  readily  imagine 
the  history  of  this  Chilean  clover — most  of  the 
family  having  plain  leaves  inherited  from  an 
ancestry  which  found  no  need  to  protect  itself 
from  an  enemy — with  an  occasional  outcropping 
of  poisonous-looking  color  splotches — the  inher- 
itance of  environments  in  which  self -protection 
was  necessary. 

Or  we  might  consider  the  ice  plant  {Mesem- 
hryanthemum  crystallinum)  which  protects  it- 
self from  the  heat  and  evaporation  of  the  sun  by 
surrounding  itself  with  tiny  water  droplets  which 
have  the  appearance  of  ice;  or  the  wild  lettuce, 


102  LUTHER   BURBANK 

known  sometimes  as  the  compass  plant,  which 
turns  its  leaves  north  and  south  so  that  only  their 
edges  are  reached  by  the  sun ;  or  any  of  a  number 
of  other  strange  protective  measures  which 
plants  have  perfected — all  manifestations  which 
would  be  impossible  if  heredity  were  not  an  ever- 
present,  controlling  influence. 

We  have,  too,  in  many  parts  of  the  country, 
plants  which  have  learned  to  snare  and  trap  in- 
sects and  even  small  animals  and  with  a  secretion 
somewhat  resembling  gastric  juice  to  digest  them 
and  from  them  obtain  an  added  supply  of 
nourishment. 

Among  these  carnivorous  plants  are  the  com- 
mon pitcher  plants. 

The  pitcher  plants,  instead  of  belonging  to 
only  one  species,  are  to  be  found  having  this  habit 
developed  in  several  species,  thus  showing  that 
environment  has  produced  a  similar  strain  of 
heredity  in  the  several  species. 

One  of  the  pitcher  plants  {Darlingtonia  cali- 
fornica)  which  grows  abundantly  in  the  moist 
meadows  of  the  Sierras  in  northern  California 
even  catches  frogs,  mice,  and  other  small  animals, 
and  sometimes  even  birds.  The  plant  is  especially 
equipped  to  lure  its  prey  into  its  pitchers.  Above 
the  pitcher  is  a  little  latticed  window,  through 
which  the  light  can  shine.     The  insects  and  the 


INFLUENCE    OF    HEREDITY     103 

animals  see  a  haven  from  the  sun  and  rain,  and 
as  they  go  in,  there  are  long  sharp  little  fingers 
all  pointing  inward  and  downward,  under  the 
latticed  window,  just  right  to  hasten  and  project 
its  prey  into  the  pool  of  water  inside  the  pitcher, 
prepared  for  this  very  purpose. 

In  these  traps  it  is  common  to  find  all  kinds 
of  insects — including  the  undigested  wings  and 
legs  of  beetles  and  grasshoppers,  and  sometimes 
the  bones  of  toads  and  frogs. 

Is  this  not  a  more  wonderful  manifestation  of 
odd  environment,  recorded  within  a  plant  in  the 
form  of  heredity,  than  even  that  of  the  bear 
which  seemed  to  have  inherited  the  intelligence 
and  skill  to  fish? 

"To  mj^  mind,"  said  one  of  the  scientists,  "the 
by-product  of  your  work  is  fully  as  interesting 
as  the  work  itself — the  view^point  which  you  get 
on  the  forces  which  control  life  is  of  even  greater 
attraction  to  me  than  the  wonderful  and  useful 
productions  which  you  have  coaxed  from  the 
soil." 

But  hardly  a  by-product,  for  these  things  are 
a  vital  part  of  the  day's  work.  Heredity  is  more 
a  factor  in  plant  improvement  than  hoes  or 
rakes ;  a  knowledge  of  the  battle  of  the  tendencies 
within  a  plant  is  the  very  basis  of  all  plant  im- 
provement.    It  is  not,  as  one  might  think,  that 


THIS   PLANT    EATS    AND 
DIGESTS    INSECTS 

The  pitcher  plant  {Darlingtoma) 
shown  here,  which  grows  in  the  high 
mountains  of  California,  has  perfected 
an  ingenious  contrivance  for  catching 
and  digesting  insects.  At  the  top  of  the 
pitcher,  so  called,  seen  above,  there  is  an 
opaque  lattice  work  in  the  interstices  of 
which  is  a  translucent,  micalike  sub- 
stance. The  insect,  entering  from  be- 
neath in  search  of  shelter,  finds  itself  in 
a  cosy  chamber,  well  lined  and  weather- 
proof. Once  inside  the  chamber,  how- 
ever, it  discovers  that  it  is  being  swal- 
lowed, irresistibly ,  and  the  plant  finally 
deposits  it  in  the  stomach  below,  where 
it  digests  it  with  a  secretion  akin  to 
hydrochloric  acid.  There  are  several 
other  known  carnivorous  plants,  show- 
ing that  at  some  time  in  their  ancestry 
the  soil  has  not  given  them  sufficient 
nutriment  for  their  needs. 


INFLUENCE    OF    HEREDITY     105 

the  work  of  plant  improvement  brings  with  it, 
incidentally,  a  knowledge  of  these  forces.  It  is 
the  knowledge  of  these  forces,  rather,  which 
makes  plant  improvement  possible. 

There  are  really,  after  all,  only  two  main  in- 
fluences which  we  need  to  direct,  in  order  to 
change  and  control  the  characteristics  of  any 
individual  growing  thing. 

The  first  of  these  is  environment. 

Rains,  snows,  fogs,  droughts,  heat,  cold, 
winds,  the  change  in  temperature  between  night 
and  day — soil,  the  location  in  shade  or  sun — 
competition  for  food,  light,  air — the  neighbors, 
whether  they  be  plant  neighbors,  or  animal 
neighbors,  or  human  neighbors — all  of  these,  and 
a  thousand  other  factors  which  could  be  men- 
tioned, are  the  elements  of  environment — some 
pulling  the  plant  one  way  and  some  another, 
but  each  with  its  definite,  though  sometimes 
hardly  noticeable,  influence  on  the  individual 
plant. 

And  the  second  is  heredity! 

Which  is  the  sum  of  all  of  the  environments 
of  a  complex  ancestry — back  to  the  beginning. 

Just  as  with  the  bear,  so  in  plant  life.  In 
every  seed  that  is  produced  there  are  stored  away 
the  tendencies  of  centuries  and  centuries  of  an- 
cestry.   The  seed  is  but  a  bundle  of  tendencies. 


106  LUTHER    BURBANK 

When  these  tendencies  have  been  nicely  bal- 
anced by  a  long  continuation  of  unchanging 
environment,  the  offspring  is  likely  to  resemble 
the  parent. 

But  when,  through  a  change  of  environment, 
or  through  crossing,  that  balance  is  disturbed, 
no  man  can  predict  the  outcome. 

So  when  such  a  seed  is  planted,  no  man  can 
be  sure  whether  the  twentieth-century  tendencies 
will  predominate,  or  whether  long-forgotten 
tendencies  may  suddenly  spring  into  prominence 
and  carry  the  plant  back  to  a  bygone  age,  in 
some  of  its  characters. 

"How  can  seeds  store  up  the  tendencies  of 
their  ancestry?"  some  one  has  asked. 

"How  can  your  mind  store  up  the  impressions 
which  it  receives?"  we  reply. 

Hidden  away  in  the  convulsions  of  our  own 
brains,  needing  but  the  right  conditions  to  call 
them  forth  with  vividness,  there  are  hundreds  of 
thousands,  perhaps  millions  of  impressions  which 
have  been  registered  there  day  by  day. 

The  first  childhood's  scare  on  learning  of 
the  presence  of  burglars  in  the  house  may 
make  us  supersensitive  to  night  noises  in  middle 
age. 

The  indelible  recollection  of  a  mother's  love 
and  tenderness  may  arise  after  forty  years  to 


INFLUENCE    OF    HEREDITY     107 

choke  down  some  harsh  word  which  we  are  about 
to  utter. 

The  combined  impressions  of  a  thousand  ex- 
periences with  other  human  beings  seem  to  blend 
together  to  help  us  form  our  judgment  of  a 
single  human  being  with  whom  we  are  about  to 
deal. 

As  the  weeks  have  rolled  into  months,  and  as 
the  months  have  melted  into  years,  new  impres- 
sions have  arisen  to  crowd  out  the  old;  strong 
impressions  have  supplanted  the  weak,  bigger 
impressions  have  taken  the  place  of  the  lesser 
ones — but  the  old  impressions  are  always  there 
— always  blending  themselves  into  our  judg- 
ments, our  ambitions,  our  desires,  our  ideals — 
always  ready  and  waiting,  apparently,  to  single 
themselves  out  and  appear  before  us  brilliantly 
whenever  the  proper  combination  of  conditions 
arises. 

So,  too,  with  the  seed. 

Every  drought  that  has  caused  hardship  to 
its  ancestors  is  recorded  as  a  tendency  in 
that  seed. 

Every  favoring  condition  which  has  brought  a 
forbear  to  greater  productiveness  is  there  as  a 
tendency  in  that  seed. 

Every  frost,  every  rain,  every  rise  of  the  morn- 
ing sun  has  left  its  imprint  in  the  line  of  ancestry 


A   NEW  PLUM   AND    ITS 
WILD    ANCESTOR 

When  plants  grow  wild  there  is  little 
need  for  large  quantities  of  luscious 
meat;  but  as  they  come  under  cultiva- 
tion the  stone  grows  less  and  the  meat 
not  only  more,  but  better.  This  direct- 
color  photograph  print  is  of  one  of  my 
largest  hybiid  plnms  and  of  a  wild 
plum,  such  as  grows  in  the  woods  near 
Santa  Rosa;  both  are  the  actual  size. 
The  large  one  was  raised  from  the  seed 
of  the  small  one  here  shown. 


a  .^ 


INFLUENCE    OF    HEREDITY     109 

and  heljJed  to  mold  tendencies  to  be  passed  on 
from  plant  to  plant. 

Beneath  the  wooden-looking,  hard-sheathed 
covering  of  the  seed,  there  is  confined  a  bundle 
of  tendencies — an  infinite  bundle — and  nothing 
more  to  give  its  product  character. 

One  tendency  stronger  than  another  perhaps 
— a  good  tendency  suppressing  a  bad  tendency 
— or  the  other  way,  tendencies  inherited  from 
immediate  parents,  tendencies  originating  from 
the  influences  of  twenty  centuries  or  more  ago — 
tendencies  which  are  latent,  awaiting  only  the 
right  combination  of  conditions  to  bring  them 
to  life;  all  of  the  tendencies  of  a  complex  ances- 
try— some  lulled  to  sleep,  but  none  obliterated; 
that  is  a  seed. 

The  whole  life  history  of  a  plant  is  stored  away 
in  its  seeds. 

If  we  plant  a  great  number  of  the  seeds  we 
shall  be  able  to  read  more  or  less  clearly  its  life 
history  with  its  variations,  its  hardships,  all  of  its 
improvements  and  retrogressions  uncovered  be- 
fore us. 

Who  knows  what  little  thing  will  change 
a  career?  Or  what  accident  will  transform 
an  ideal?  Or  what  triviality,  out  of  the  or- 
dinary, will  lead  to  the  discovery  of  a  new 
tr:th? 


110  LUTHER   BURBANK 

The  potato  seed  ball  is  an  insignificant-looking 
fruit,  of  no  use  as  any  ordinary  practical  farmer 
would  have  said. 

Away  back  in  the  history  of  the  potato,  on 
the  bleak  Chilean  mountainsides  where  it  had 
to  depend  almost  wholly  upon  its  seeds  instead 
of  tubers  for  reproduction,  every  healthy  potato 
plant  bore  a  great  number  of  seed  balls  and  this 
is  the  case  even  at  the  present  time  in  the  high 
Andean  region  and  down  in  the  canyons  and 
valleys  of  Chile,  wild  potatoes  are  one  of  the 
worst  of  weeds,  though  in  some  cases  producing 
fairly  good  small  potatoes. 

But  years  of  cultivation  have  removed  from 
the  potato  the  necessity  of  bearing  seeds  for  the 
preservation  of  its  race.  The  potato  plant,  so 
certain  now  to  reproduce  itself  through  subdivi- 
sion of  its  tuber,  so  reliant  on  man  for  its  propa- 
gation, has  little  use  for  the  seed  upon  which 
its  ancestors  mostly  depended  for  perpetuation 
before  man  relieved  it  of  this  burden. 

So  the  average  potato  grower,  knowing  that 
next  year's  crop  depends  only  on  this  year's 
tubers — and  being  more  anxious,  alas,  to  keep 
his  crop  at  a  fixed  standard  than  to  improve  it 
— might  see  the  occasional  seed  ball  without 
knowing  its  meaning — or  realizing  its  pos- 
sibilities. 


INFLUENCE    OF    HEREDITY     111 

I  had  been  raising  potato  seedlings  for  amuse- 
ment at  Lancaster,  Mass.,  in  1862  and  1863,  but 
all  the  potato  seedlings  which  I  had  raised  had 
so  generally  almost  exactly  resembled  the  parent 
plants  that  I  had  given  up  the  effort  to  produce 
anything  of  special  value  from  anj^  of  the  com- 
mon varieties. 

No  one,  up  to  the  present  time,  as  far  as  we 
have  learned,  has  ever  seen  a  seed  ball  on  the 
Early  Rose  potato,  except  myself,  and  for  years 
I  had  a  standing  offer  of  five  dollars  per  fruit 
for  anyone  who  would  furnish  me  another  from 
the  thousands  of  acres  which  were  raised  of  this 
variety  at  that  time. 

This  seed  ball  attracted  my  attention  from 
knowing  that  the  Early  Rose  did  not  bear  seeds 
and  it  was  watched  patiently  from  the  time  it 
first  formed  on  the  vine  until  it  was  nearly  ripe. 

When  one  day  I  went  to  examine  it,  as  I  did 
often,  it  had  disappeared  and  every  effort  to  find 
it  for  a  time  failed,  but  at  last  it  was  discovered 
a  short  distance  from  the  plant  where  perhaps 
a  bird,  a  dog,  or  some  other  passing  animal  had 
brushed  it  from  the  vine. 

Although  I  was  raised  on  my  father's  two- 
hundred-acre  farm — a  large  one  for  New  Eng- 
land— and  began  my  experiments  there,  yet  my 
own  little  twenty-acre  farm  in  an  adjoining  town 


112  LUTHER   BURBANK 

has,  by  the  product  of  the  "Burbank"  potato, 
increased  the  wealth  of  the  world  very  greatly, 
and  this  without  the  cost  of  a  dollar  except  the 
$150  which  I  received  for  it  from  a  well-knoA\Ti 
eastern  seedsman. 

In  the  month  of  May,  1872,  in  this  little  New 
England  town,  I  held  in  my  hand  one  seed,  ten 
of  which  were  not  as  large  as  an  ordinary  pin 
head.  From  this  tiny  seed  the  "Burbank"  potato 
came.  More  than  six  hundred  million  bushels  of 
this  potato  have  been  raised  during  the  past 
forty-nine  years ;  enough  to  make  up  a  solid  train 
of  potatoes  to  reach  14,500  miles,  or  more  than 
halfway  around  this  planet. 

'  The  interesting  fact  to  be  noted  here  is  that 
from  this  seed  ball  were  produced  twenty-three 
new  potato  plants. 

Each  of  these  plants  yielded  its  own  individual 
variations,  its  o^^^l  interpretation  of  long-for- 
gotten heredity  and  numerous  natural  crossings. 

One,  a  beautiful,  long,  red  potato,  decayed 
almost  as  soon  as  dug;  another  was  red-skinned 
with  white  eyes;  another  white  with  red  eyes; 
two  white  ones  and  several  had  eyes  so  deep  that 
they  were  unfit  for  use,  and  all  varied  widely. 

These  twenty-three  variations,  in  fact,  may 
have  represented  as  many  different  stages  in  the 
history  of  the  potato  family;  and,  having  no 


INFLUENCE    OF    HEREDITY     113 

present-day  environment  to  hold  them  in  balance, 
all  were  more  or  less  unlike  any  potato  which 
had  ever  been  cultivated. 

Among  the  number,  though,  was  one  variety 
better  than  the  rest — and  better  than  any  potato 
which  had  ever  been  seen.  This  variety  was 
named  the  "Burbank"  by  J.  J.  H.  Gregory,  a 
well-known  seedsman  of  eastern  Massachusetts. 

With  the  same  work — indeed  with  less — both 
the  pioneer  who  grew  potatoes  for  his  own  sus- 
tenance, and  the  potato  specialist  who  produced 
his  crop  on  a  commercial  basis,  were  now  enabled 
to  very  considerably  increase  their  output. 

And  to-day,  when  more  pounds  of  potatoes 
are  grown  than  of  any  other  food  crop  of  the 
world,  the  increase  made  in  a  single  year's 
crop  —  the  increase  gained  without  any  corre- 
sponding increase  in  capital  invested  or  cost 
of  production — amounts  to  an  astounding  sum 
in  the  millions. 

Possibly  at  no  other  time  in  the  history  of  the 
nation  could  the  Burbank  potato  have  come 
more  opportunely. 

These  were  the  days  when  Chicago  was  a  far 
western  city,  and  when  the  great  territory  be- 
yond was  the  home  of  the  pioneer. 

The  potato  is  a  vegetable  designed  peculiarly 
for  the  pioneer. 


THE    BURBANK   POTATO 

An  improvement  in  one  of  the  most 
important  of  crops.  This  variety  has 
added  many  millions  to  the  wealth  of 
this  and  other  countries,  not  only  by  its 
unusual  vigor  and  productiveness,  hut 
by  its  superior  quality.  Millions  of 
bushels  of  this  variety  are  grown 
annually. 


INFLUENCE    OF   HEREDITY     115 

It  requires  no  great  preparation  either  for 
planting  or  harvesting.  It  grows  rapidly  on  the 
rich  new  soil  turned  over  by  the  settler;  a  little 
cultivation  insures  its  growth;  when  ripened  it 
may  lie  in  the  ground  and  be  used  as  needed; 
when  the  fall  frosts  come  it  can  easily  be  banked 
in  a  pit  for  winter  use. 

Little  care;  small  outlay;  easy  preparation 
for  food;  these  make  the  potato  among  the  first 
crops  to  be  grown  when  the  settler  locates  his  new 
home. 

Trace  now  the  influence  which  this  one  success 
had  upon  a  growing  nation.  It  was  in  1872.  It 
was  a  time  when  the  line  between  success  and 
failure  —  between  starvation  and  comfortable 
plenty — was  drawn  so  finely  for  the  pioneer  that 
even  the  slightest  help  was  of  a  value  out  of 
proportion  to  its  intrinsic  worth. 

A  crop  failure  or  shortage,  in  those  recon- 
struction days  after  the  war,  meant  a  set-back 
that  would  take  years  to  overcome,  for  the 
pioneer's  only  source  of  supply,  usually,  was  his 
own  crop. 

Any  increase,  therefore,  in  nature's  products 
— such  as  the  potato — in  the  days  of  the  pioneer, 
signified  more  to  the  world  than  it  ever  has  since. 
The  greatest  value  it  gave — the  greatest  service 
it  performed  was  to  help  the  world  to  know  the 


116  LUTHER   BURBANK 

value  of  improved  plants  which  could  increase 
the  amount  of  crops  without  any  added  expense 
whatever. 

Plant  potato  eyes,  and  you  get  potatoes  like 
the  parents — improving  or  retrograding  a  little, 
according  to  the  present  environment  in  which 
they  grow. 

But  plant  potato  seeds,  and  you  tap  a  mine  of 
heredity,  infinite  in  its  uncertainties,  but  infinite 
too  in  its  possibihties. 

During  the  past  twenty-five  years  I  have  pro- 
duced and  introduced  a  hundred  or  more  new 
plants  which  give  promise  of  being  as  valuable 
as  the  Burbank  potato — a  large  portion  of  which 
have  already  proven  so — though  not  yet  as 
widely  known  and  grown,  and  also  have  hun- 
dreds yet  to  introduce  as  priceless  in  value  as 
these. 


Heredity  is  the  sum  of  all  of 
the  environments  of  an  infinitely 
complex  ancestry  hack  to  the 
beginning. 


NO  TWO  LIVING  THINGS 
EXACTLY  ALIKE 

Infinite  Ingenuity  the  Cost  op 
Variation 

WHERE  do  the  flowers  get  their  colors? 
From  the  bees,  and  the  butterflies, 
and  the  birds — and  from  us. 

Let  us  pick  up  a  carnation  or  any  other  com- 
mon garden  pink  (Dianthus),  a  class  of  plants 
very  commonly  cultivated  in  greenhouses  and 
out-of-doors. 

If  w^e  were  to  strip  off  the  petals  soon  after 
they  have  opened,  and  slice  the  base  of  the  blos- 
som in  half,  we  should  find  ourselves  looking 
into  a  tiny,  long  cylindrical  nest  of  dianthus  eggs 
— soft,  white,  moist,  mushy  eggs  with  only  a 
soft,  skinny  covering  for  shells. 

Carefully  packed  in  a  pulpy  formation,  these 
eggs,  we  should  observe,  are  incased  in  a  well 
protected  nest,  longer  than  its  breadth,  oval, 
except  that  its  top  extends  upward  in  the  form 
of  a  single  tiny  stalk. 

117 


118  LUTHER   BURBANK 

Surrounding  this  neatly  packed  nest  of  eggs 
with  its  single  uj^right  stalk,  and  hugging  it 
closely  all  around,  we  should  see  verj^  slender 
modified  leaves,  half  an  inch  or  so  in  length,  end- 
ing each  in  a  pointed  stalk  as  large  around, 
perhaps,  as  a  bristle  out  of  a  hairbrush,  arranged 
in  circular  form  as  if  shielding  the  egg  chamber 
and  its  central  stalk  from  harmful  intruders. 

At  the  top  of  the  surrounding  stalks  we  should 
see  crosswise  bundles,  nicely  balanced,  or  beauti- 
ful slaty  gray  pollen  dust,  loosely  held  in  half- 
burst  packages. 

At  their  base  we  should  find  the  dianthus 
honey  factory,  also  the  fragrance  factory — a 
group  of  tiny  glands  which  manufacture  a  sticky 
confection  that  covers  the  bottom  of  the  flower 
with  its  sweetness  and  fragrance. 

Shall  we  take  one  of  the  egglike  seeds  from 
its  nest  and  plant  it?  We  might  as  well  plant  a 
toothpick. 

Shall  we  take  a  package  of  the  pollen,  and  put 
it  into  the  ground?  We  might  as  well  sow  a 
pinch  of  flour. 

But  let  us  combine  a  grain  of  that  pollen  with 
one  of  those  eggs  and  ten  days  in  the  soil  it  will 
show  us  that  we  have  produced  a  living,  growing 
thing — a  new  dianthus  plant,  with  an  individ- 
uality, a  personality  of  its  own — an  infant  dian- 


INGENUITY    IN    VARIATION    119 

thus,  which  we  for  the  first  time  have  brought 
into  being — a  thing  which  had  never  lived  before, 
yet  which  has  within  it  all  of  the  tendencies  in- 
herited from  ages  of  ancestry — which  wait  only 
on  environment  to  determine  in  a  slight  degree 
which  shall  predominate. 

By  the  simple  combination  of  the  pollen  and 
the  egg  we  have  produced  a  new  individual  which 
may,  if  we  have  the  requisite  knowledge  in  choos- 
ing the  parents  and  will  it,  become  the  founder 
of  a  whole  race  of  new  and  better  carnations. 

How  shall  we  go  about  it  to  make  a  combina- 
tion such  as  this  between  the  pollen  dust  and 
the  seedlike  egg  so  snugly  stowed  away  within 
its  nest? 

Let  us  examine  that  central  stalk  inside  the 
guard  of  pollen-bearing  stamens  and  few  or 
many  petals,  and  we  shall  have  the  answer. 

As  the  stamens  fall  away  we  begin  to  see  a 
transformation  in  the  central  stalk.  Its  upper 
end,  which  at  first  was  single,  now  shows  a  tend- 
ency to  divide  into  two  or  three  curling  tendrils 
— moist  and  sticky,  covered  with  hundreds  of 
little  fingers  to  still  further  catch  and  hold  the 
pollen. 

Though  we  may  plant  pollen  in  the  ground 
without  result,  we  have  but  to  place  it  on  one 
of  these  stigmas  as  they  curl  from  the  end  of 


THE  GERANIUM  READY  TO 
RECEIVE  POLLEN 

As  soon  as  the  pollen  has  been  re- 
moved by  insects  from  the  geranium,  its 
anthers  and  stamens  shrink  and  wither 
away,  disclosing  the  pistil  which  they 
have  surrounded.  The  pistil  then  un- 
coils into  five  curling  lobes,  upon  whose 
sticky  surface  the  pollen  from  other 
flowers  finds  lodgment. 


INGENUITY    IN    VARIATION    121 

that  central  pistil  stalk  to  start  an  immediate  and 
rapid  growth. 

Once  planted  there,  the  pollen  grain  begins  to 
throw  out  a  downward  root,  into  and  through 
the  pistil  stalk — forming  itself  into  a  tube  which, 
extending  and  still  extending,  finally  taps  the 
egg  chamber  and  makes  possible  a  union  be- 
tween the  nucleus  of  that  pollen  grain  and  the 
egg  below  which  awaits  its  coming. 

So,  to  produce  a  new  dianthus,  we  have  but  to 
dust  the  grains  of  pollen  upon  the  stigma  of  that 
central  pistil  stalk;  and  when  the  flower  has 
withered  away,  its  duty  done,  we  shall  soon  find 
within  the  egg  chamber  a  package  of  fertile 
dianthus  seeds  ready  for  planting. 

But  there  arises  now  a  difficulty.  While 
those  little  packages  of  pollen  dust  are  there, 
the  central  pistil  stalk  inside  keeps  shut  up 
tight,  and  it  has  no  sticky  surface  on  which  to 
dust  the  pollen  and  no  little  fingers  to  catch 
and  hold  it. 

And  if  we  search  for  another  blossom  which 
shows  an  open,  sticky  pistil,  we  shall  always  find 
that  the  pollen  packages  which  once  surrounded 
it  have  passed  away. 

To  make  a  combination  between  the  pollen 
grains  and  the  egglike  seeds,  therefore,  we  find 
it  necessary  to  search  first  for  one  blossom  which 


122  LUTHER   BURBANK 

is  in  its  pollen-bearing  stage,  and  then  for 
another  blossom  which  has  passed  this  point  and 
shows  a  receptive  stigma — we  are  forced  to  make 
the  combination  between  the  two,  instead  of  be- 
tween the  pollen  grains  and  the  eggs  of  the  same 
blossom. 

If  the  stigma  of  a  blossom  were  at  its  receptive 
stage  when  the  pollen  packages  around  it  were 
bursting  open,  there  would  probably  be  com- 
bined in  the  seeds  of  its  egg  chamber  below  only 
the  characteristics  of  one  parent  plant — only 
the  tendencies  of  a  single  line  of  ancestry. 

But  when  these  eggs  have  brought  to  them  the 
pollen  from  another  plant,  there  are,  confined 
within  them,  the  tendencies  and  characteristics 
of  two  complex  lines  of  ancestry;  so  that  the 
plants  into  which  they  grow  will  be  encouraged 
into  variation  and  individuality,  not  as  a  result 
of  environment  alone,  but  as  a  result  of  the 
countless  tendencies  inherited  from  two  separate 
lines  of  parentage. 

What  a  scheme  for  pitting  the  old  tendencies 
of  heredity  against  the  new  tendencies  of  en- 
vironment— what  an  infinite  possibility  of  com- 
binations this  opens  up! 

Truly,  of  a  million  dianthus  blossoms  no  two 
could  be  exactly  alike — nor  any  two  of  their 
millions  of  petals — nor  any  two  of  their  millions 


INGENUITY    IN   VARIATION   123 

of  stamens — nor  any  two  of  their  millions  of 
honey  glands — nor  any  two  of  their  thousand 
million  pollen  granules. 

What  we  have  seen  in  the  dianthus — those 
egglike  seeds,  the  sticky  stigma  and  that  micro- 
scopic pollen  dust,  we  may  see  in  some  form  or 
other  in  every  flowering  ]3lant  that  grows. 

The  act  that  we  might  have  performed  to  pro- 
duce a  new  dianthus  plant — the  combination  of 
the  pollen  with  some  of  those  eggs  is  going  on 
about  us  alwaj^s,  everywhere — by  the  bees,  the 
butterflies,  the  birds,  the  winds,  and  numerous 
ether  agencies  acting  to  effect  these  combina- 
tions. Which  is  the  reason  for  the  candy  factory 
at  the  bottom  of  every  carnation's  little  central 
well.  And  for  those  brilliant  petals,  and  that 
delicate  fragrance  and  the  arrangement  of  the 
stamen  stalks,  and  the  crosswise  poise  of  their 
pollen-bearing  anthers,  and  the  central  pistil 
stalk  which  rises  upward  from  the  egg  nest  and 
everything  that  is  beautiful  and  lovely  in  the 
bloom  of  that  dianthus — and  the  dianthus  itself. 

Here  is  a  plant,  the  dianthus,  so  anxious  to 
produce  variations  in  its  offspring  that  it  has  lost 
the  power  of  fertilizing  its  own  eggs  and  risked 
its  whole  posterity  upon  the  cooperation  of  in- 
sects or  other  means  for  bringing  pollen  from 
some  neighboring  plant. 


A   POLLEN-LADEN   BEE 

This  direct-color  'photograph  print 
shows  a  hee,  greatly  enlarged,  which  was 
captured  in  a  cactus  flower.  The  pollen 
grains  can  he  seen  sticking  to  its  hairy 
body,  and  the  fact  that,  as  it  crawls  into 
the  next  flower,  some  of  this  pollen  will 
find  lodgment  on  the  sticky  surface  of 
a  receptive  stigma  is  easily  realized. 
The  bees  gather  pollen  not  only  for 
distribution  but  for  their  own  uses.  The 
two  large  splotches  of  pollen  shown  be- 
neath the  second  pair  of  legs  are  ''pollen 
dough"  or  ''bee  bread''  which  the  bees 
carry  home  for  food. 


INGENUITY    IN    VARIATION    125 

It  has  no  power  of  locomotion — no  ability  to 
get  about  from  place  to  place  in  search  of  pollen 
for  its  eggs  or  of  eggs  in  need  of  its  pollen;  nor 
has  its  neighbor,  so  they  call  in  an  outside  mes- 
senger of  reproduction — the  bee. 

The  dianthus  secretes  its  honey  at  the  base  of 
its  blossom.  It  places  movable  packages  of  pol- 
len dust  balanced  on  springy  stamens  in  such  a 
way  that,  to  reach  the  sweets,  the  pollen  hedge 
must  be  broken  through.  It  keeps  its  egg  cham- 
ber closed  and  its  pistil  unreceptive  while  the 
pollen  dust  is  there,  and,  as  if  to  advertise  its 
hidden  sweets  to  the  nectar-loving  bees,  it  throws 
out  shapely  petals  of  many  brilliant  hues  and 
exudes  a  charming  fragrance. 

And  thus  the  bees,  attracted  from  afar,  crowd- 
ing into  the  tiny  wells  to  get  their  food,  become 
besmeared  with  pollen  dust  as  they  enter  a  pollen- 
bearing  bloom  —  and  leave  a  load  of  pollen 
dust  wherever  they  later  brush  some  receptive 
stigma. 

Why  did  the  dianthus  gets  its  color? 

For  the  bees. 

Just  as  the  cactus  covered  itself  with  spines 
until  it  had  built  up  an  effective  armor,  in  the 
same  way  the  dianthus,  by  easy  stages,  has 
worked  out  a  color  scheme  to  attract  the  bees 
upon  which  it  depends  to  effect  its  reproduction. 


126  LUTHER   BURBANK 

On  my  Sebastopol  farm  there  was  once 
growing  an  arum  {A.  dracunculus)  whose 
color  and  scent  reveal  a  somewhat  different 
history. 

Unlike  most  flowers  which  advertise  them- 
selves by  a  pleasing  fragrance  to  attract  bees, 
birds,  and  butterflies,  this  plant  produces  a  scent 
to  attract  carrion  flies. 

Some  flies  feed  on  carrion.  The  nectar  of  the 
clover  is  not  to  their  liking  and  the  brilliant 
colors  of  our  garden  flowers  fail  to  attract  them. 
Our  refuse  is  their  food,  and  they  are  guided  to 
it  by  colors  and  scents  which  are  highly  offensive 
to  us. 

So  this  arum,  or  carrion  lily,  as  it  has  been 
named — stranded  at  some  time  in  its  history, 
perhaps,  in  some  i)lace  where  flies  were  its  only 
available  messengers  of  reproduction,  or  bloom- 
ing at  a  period  when  other  means  were  not 
within  its  reach — has  bedecked  its  spathe  with 
a  brownish-purple  color,  resembling  the  color 
and  texture  of  a  piece  of  liver  or  an  overripe 
beefsteak. 

Just  as  the  dianthus  supplements  its  advertise- 
ment in  color  with  an  advertisement  in  fragi-ance, 
so  the  carrion  lily  has  developed  an  individual 
odor  appeal,  decidedly  like  that  of  meat  of  un- 
certain age  and  quality. 


INGENUITY    IN   VARIATION   127 

So  obnoxious  and  so  penetrating  is  the  odor 
of  this  flower  that  each  year  it  has  been  found 
necessary  to  cut  off  and  destroy  the  blooms  as 
soon  as  they  appear. 

And  so  truly  has  it  achieved  its  ideal  that  even 
the  buzzards,  carrion  birds  that  they  are,  at- 
tracted by  its  color,  its  texture,  and  its  smell, 
have  descended  in  ever-narrowing  circles  only  to 
fly  away  in  disgust  when  they  found  they  had 
been  lured  by  a  flower. 

Where  the  dianthus  finds  it  satisfactory 
merely  to  block  the  entrance  to  its  honey  store 
with  an  array  of  pollen  bundles  which  must  be 
pushed  aside  by  the  entering  insect,  the  carrion 
lily  makes  doubly  sure  of  pollination  by  means 
of  a  still  more  ingenious  device. 

The  fly,  attracted  by  the  color  of  the  spathe 
and  guided  by  the  hidden  odor  at  the  base  of  the 
flower,  lights  on  the  sturdy  spadix  and  uses  it 
as  a  ladder  for  descent.  The  opening  around  the 
spadix  is  just  large  enough  to  afford  a  comfort- 
able passageway;  but  once  within  the  well,  the 
spathe  closes  in  and  snugly  hugs  the  spadix,  so 
that  the  fly,  buzzing  about  in  the  chamber 
below,  becomes  thoroughly  covered  with  the 
pollen  dust. 

This  done,  the  flower  slowly  unfolds  and  per- 
mits the  pollen-laden  insect  to  escape. 


128  LUTHER   BURBANK 

Many  other  flowers  show  equal  or  greater  in- 
genuity. 

In  some  varieties  of  the  sage,  the  pollen-bear- 
ing stamens  actually  descend  and  quickly  rub 
the  yellow  dust  on  either  side  of  the  insect,  after 
which  they  fall  back  into  their  former  position 
above  the  nectar  cells. 

The  orchids,  almost  without  exception,  show  a 
most  marvelous  ingenuity. 

Some  of  the  species  bear  their  pollen  in  small 
bundles,  the  base  of  each  bundle  being  a  sticky 
disk.  The  structural  arrangement  of  the  flower 
is  such  that  the  insect  cannot  secure  its  nectar 
without  carrying  away  at  least  one  of  the 
bundles.  A  pollen  bundle  glues  itself  to  the 
head  of  the  insect  and  curves  upward  like  a  horn. 

As  soon  as  the  insect  has  withdra^vn  from  the 
flower,  this  pollen  horn  bends  downward  in 
front  of  the  insect,  so  that  when  the  next  flower 
is  entered  the  dust  can  hardly  fail  to  reach  a 
receptive  portion  of  the  stigma. 

In  these  orchids  there  are  but  single  receptive 
stigmas  and  the  pollen  bundles  are  separate  and 
single  also,  but  in  another  orchid  which  has  two 
receptive  stigmas,  the  pollen  bundles  are  in 
doublets,  held  together  with  a  strap. 

Thus  the  insect  visiting  this  second  orchid 
carries  away  two  pollen  bundles  on  its  forehead, 


INGENUITY    IN    VARIATION   129 

each  so  nicely  placed  that  their  dust  will  reach 
both  sticky  stigmas  of  the  next  flower  entered 
and  could  not  pollinate  the  stigma  of  the  first 
mentioned  orchids. 

Orchid  pollen  is  quite  often  carried  by 
small  birds  as  well  as  very  large  insects  and 
the  contrivances  which  the  orchids  have  in- 
vented to  prevent  pollinization  from  other 
species  of  orchids  are  marvelous  almost  beyond 
comprehension. 

Similarly,  the  pollen  of  the  milkweed  is  stored 
in  two  little  bags,  connected  by  a  strap.  When 
the  bee  visits  the  flower  its  feet  become  en- 
tangled in  this  strap  and  when  it  leaves  it  carries 
both  bags  with  it. 

And  so,  throughout  the  whole  range  of  plant 
life,  each  fresh  investigation  would  show  a  new 
display  of  ingenuity — infinite  ingenuity  directed 
toward  the  single  end  of  combining  the  tend- 
encies of  two  lines  of  heredity — so  that  the  off- 
spring may  be  different  from  and  better 
equipped  than  the  parents  for  adapting  them- 
selves to  new  conditions  of  environment. 

We  may  observe  a  number  of  species  of 
flowers  which  bloom  at  night  only ;  flowers  which, 
as  if  having  tried  to  perfect  a  lure  for  the  insects 
of  the  day,  and  having  failed,  have  reversed  the 
order    of    things    and    send    forth    blossoms   of 

Vol.  1 — Bur.  E 


ARUM   DRACUNCULUS  — A 
FLY-LOVING   FLOWER 

The  carrion  lily  pictured  here  adver- 
tises to  the  flies  to  act  as  its  messengers 
of  pollination.  The  spathe  frequently 
grows  to  fifteen  inches  in  length,  and 
as  can  he  see^i,  though  rich  and  almost 
attractive  in  appearance,  is  of  the  same 
color  as  a  piece  of  decaying  liver.  The 
smell  emitted  from,  this  flower  is  offen- 
sive in  the  extreme — all  for  an  adver- 
tisement for  flies,  which  surround  the 
plants  in  great  numbers  when  in  hloom. 


^VS  -^. 


INGENUITY    IN   VARIATION   131 

white  or  yellow  —  luminous  colors  always  —  to 
attract  the  moths  that  fly  after  the  sun  goes 
down. 

As  far  as  I  have  observed,  no  flower  which 
blooms  exclusively  at  night  has  any  other  color 
except  yellow  or  white. 

We  should  find  many  interesting  half  hours 
of  wonder  contemplating  such  flowers  as  the 
honeysuckle,  the  nasturtium,  the  aquilegias, 
some  clovers,  and  many  of  the  lilies — which  have 
taken  special  precaution  to  place  their  nectar  ir 
long,  hornlike  tubes,  out  of  the  reach  of  most 
insects,  so  that  only  the  birds  or  insects  with  an 
unusually  long  proboscis  may  become  their  mes- 
sengers of  reproduction. 

We  should  see  the  pathos  of  those  flowers 
which  advertise  for  insects  that  rarely  come.  The 
barberry,  for  example,  which  can  be  pollinated 
only  during  the  bright  hours  of  a  cloudless  day, 
and  during  a  time  so  short  that  there  is  little 
chance  of  pollen  being  brought  by  insects  from 
other  blossoms.  Each  barberry  blossom,  read} 
for  the  insect  if  it  should  come,  but  as  if  expect- 
ing disappointment,  makes  sure  of  self-perpetua- 
tion, if  not  of  self -improvement,  by  jabbing  its 
pollen-laden  anthers  on  its  own  stigma  with  a 
motion  as  positive  and  as  accurate  as  the  jump  of 
a  cat. 


132  LUTHER   BURBANK 

Or  the  fennel  flower  (Nigella)  of  France,  in 
which  the  several  pistils  bend  over  and  take 
pollen  from  the  stamens  around  them  and 
straighten  up  again. 

Or  the  flowers  of  the  nettle  (Urtica)  in  which 
the  stamens  increase  their  height  with  a  sudden 
springlike  action,  showering  the  pollen  up  over 
the  receptive  stigma. 

We  should  observe  that  wheat  and  most  of  the 
similar  other  grains,  as  though  discouraged  by 
centuries  of  collective  cultivation,  or  failure  to 
secure  individual  selection,  had  settled  down  to 
the  steady  task  of  reproducing  their  kind  almost 
exactly  alike,  depending  on  similar  individual 
environment  for  slight  individuality,  and  insur- 
ing reproduction  for  self-pollination,  with  rare 
exceptions. 

We  should  see  plants  in  all  stages  of  their 
attempts  to  keep  their  kind  fully  adapted  to 
their  new  and  constantly  changing  environments ; 
we  should  see  a  range  of  ingenuity  so  great  that 
no  man,  no  matter  how  many  of  his  days  have 
been  devoted  to  the  study  of  plants  and  their 
ways,  can  ever  become  weary  of  its  wonders. 

"I  bought  some  extremely  expensive  seed  corn 
several  years  back,"  complained  a  Santa  Rosa 
farmer.  "But,  just  as  I  expected,  it  ran  down. 
The  first  year's  corn  was  fine,  and  so  was  the 


INGENUITY    IN    VARIATION   133 

second;  but  now  it  has  gone  clear  back  to 
ordinary  com.  This  plant  improvement  does 
not  pay." 

Do  you  know  how  corn  reproduces  itself? 

Do  you  realize  that  if  you  plant  good  corn  on 
one  side  of  the  fence  and  inferior  corn  on  the 
other,  the  corn  cannot  see  the  fence? 

Would  you  expect  that  a  cross  between  a  race 
horse  and  some  family  dobbin  would  produce  a 
line  of  racers? 

Separate  your  good  corn  from  your  poor,  and 
keep  it  by  itself,  and  you  will  find  that  it  does 
not  "run  out,"  but  even  gradually,  by  careful 
selection,  improves  each  season. 

Every  farmer  knows  that  corn  must  be 
planted  in  large  quantities  close  together — that 
a  single  kernel  of  corn,  planted  in  one  corner  of 
a  lot,  apart  from  other  growing  corn,  would  be 
nonproductive. 

Yet  how  many  of  those  who  depend  upon 
corn  for  their  living  fully  realize  the  reason 
for  this? 

The  dianthus,  with  its  nectar,  its  fragi'ance, 
its  color,  and  its  structural  arrangement,  has 
built  up  a  partnership  with  the  bee  to  perform 
its  pollination;  while  corn,  with  no  advertise- 
ment, no  honey,  no  brilliant  reds,  no  fragrance, 
has    developed    an    equally    effective    plan    of 


134  LUTHER   BURBANK 

making  the  breezes  act  as  its  messenger  of 
reproduction. 

Here  is  a  plant,  tall  and  supple,  that  responds 
with  graceful  movements  to  the  wind.  At  its 
top  it  holds  a  bunch  of  pollen-laden  tassels — 
swaying  tassels  which,  with  each  backward  and 
forward  movement,  discharge  their  tiny  pollen 
grains  in  clouds,  which  slowly  settle  toward  the 
ground. 

Below,  on  the  stalk  of  the  plant,  are  the  ears 
of  corn,  containing  row  after  row  of  egg  kernels, 
needing  but  combination  with  pollen  grains  from 
above  to  become,  each,  a  seed  capable  of  starting 
another  corn  plant  on  its  life. 

Just  as  the  eggs  of  the  dianthus  were  housed 
in  a  protective  covering,  so  the  corn  eggs  are 
sheathed  within  protective  husks.  And  just  as  a 
tiny  stalk  protruded  from  the  egg  chamber  of 
the  dianthus,  so  does  the  long  silk  which  pro- 
trudes from  the  end  of  the  husk  serve  the  same 
purpose  for  the  corn  seed. 

Remove  the  husks  from  an  ear  of  com,  and  it 
will  be  seen  that  each  strand  of  the  protruding 
silk  ffoes  back  to  one  individual  kernel  on  the  ear. 
That,  between  the  rows  of  kernels,  like  electric 
wires  in  a  conduit,  each  strand  of  the  common 
bvmdle  of  silk  protruding  leads  back  to  its  sep- 
arate starting  point. 


INGENUITY    IN   VARIATION   135 

To  combine  the  characters  of  two  parent  corn 
plants,  all  that  is  necessary  is  to  dust  the  pollen 
from  the  tassel  of  one  on  the  silken  ducts  of  the 
ear  of  another. 

And  the  breezes,  as  they  swish  a  waving  field 
of  com  gracefully  to  and  fro — as  they  play 
through  a  forest  of  pines,  or  as  they  ripple  the 
grasses  of  our  lawns — are  performing  their 
function  in  the  scheme  of  reproduction  as  effec- 
tively as  the  bee  does  when  it  goes  from  dianthus 
to  dianthus  in  search  of  sweets. 

Consider  the  simple  salt-water  cell,  as  seen  re- 
producing itself  under  the  microscope  merely 
by  splitting  in  two ;  and  those  two  each  becoming 
two,  and  so  on,  endlessly. 

Observe  that,  with  only  a  single  line  of  parent- 
age from  which  to  draw  tendencies,  the  individ- 
uals to  be  found  in  this,  the  lowest  form  of  life 
we  know,  are  molded  wholly  by  the  variation  in 
its  temperature,  or  those  other  limited  changes 
w^ithin  a  short-lived  environment. 

And  then  consider  the  dianthus,  the  arum  and 
the  orchid — with  a  thousand  added  complica- 
tions in  their  lives  brought  about  by  a  single 
dominant  purpose — a  thousand  self-imposed  dif- 
ficulties and  obstacles  which  would  be  needless 
except  for  that  guiding  desire  to  give  the  off- 
spring a  better  chance  than  the  parent  had! 


136  LUTHER   BURBANK 

What  a  price  to  pay  for  variation!  What  in- 
genuity and  effort  each  new  combination  of 
heredities  has  cost !  How  many  must  have  been 
the  plants  which  advertised  for  insects  that 
did  not  come!  How  many,  finding  themselves 
in  an  unequal  struggle,  have  perished  in  the 
attempt ! 

Truty,  if  the  cost  of  things  may  be  taken  as 
a  measure  of  their  value,  how  much  must  this 
dearly  bought  variation  be  worth  in  the  Scheme 
of  Things! 

The  struggle  of  a  plant  to  secure  adaptability 
for  its  offspring  does  not  end  with  the  seed — it 
only  begins  there. 

In  the  tropics,  a  common  tree  near  the  sea- 
shore is  the  coconut  palm.  The  coconuts  which 
we  find  in  our  market  are  but  the  inside  portion 
of  the  nuts  as  they  grew  on  these  trees. 

When  they  were  gathered  there  was  a  fibrous 
substance  surrounding  the  shell  an  inch  or  two 
in  thickness — this  woody  fiber  is  often  removed 
by  the  shippers  to  cut  down  the  cost  of  freight 
and  cartage.  Around  this  excelsiorlike  cover- 
ing, as  the  nut  grew  on  the  tree,  there  was  a 
skin-tight,  waterproof  cover,  with  a  smooth  shiny 
surface. 

At  one  end  of  the  nut  are  three  well-defined 
eyes — very  thin  places  in  the  shell. 


INGENUITY   IN   VARIATION   137 

Since  these  coconut  palms  grow,  usually, 
along  the  water's  edge,  the  nuts  sometimes  fall 
into  a  brook,  a  river,  or  the  ocean  and  float 
away. 

Once  deiached  from  the  tree  and  started  on 
such  a  journey,  the  eyes  disclose  their  purpose. 
One  of  them  throws  out  a  system  of  roots,  not 
on  the  inside  of  the  hard  shell,  but  growing  at 
first  within  the  woody  fiber  between  the  shell  and 
the  outside  covering. 

These  nuts  may  float  in  the  water,  even  salt 
water,  for  thousands  of  miles,  w^hile  strong,  vig- 
orous roots  are  forming  on  the  inside  of  the  cov- 
ering among  the  excelsiorlike  packing. 

Once  landed,  after  weeks,  perhaps,  of  travel, 
the  roots  cast  anchor  by  forcing  themselves  out 
into  the  moist  soil  at  the  water's  edge.  Two  or 
three  sturdy  leaves  soon  appear,  and  so  the  new 
plant  is  established  in  its  new  home. 

The  hard  shell  surrounding  the  stored-up 
milk  in  the  coconut  is  there  obviously  as  a  pro- 
tection from  the  monkeys  and  other  animals;  to 
prevent  extermination  through  their  liking  for 
the  milk  and  the  meat. 

And  that  excelsior  packing,  and  waterproof 
housing,  are  not  these  very  plainly  the  palm's  at- 
tempt to  provide  for  its  baby  tree  in  its  new 
environment? 


THE    COCONUT'S    THREE 
EYES 

The  coconut,  as  everyone  knows,  has 
a  very  hard  shell,  this  protection  cover- 
ing the  whole  nut  except  at  one  end 
where  there  are  three  unprotected 
''eyes''  From  one  of  these,  when  the 
nut  sprouts  to  make  a  new  plant,  a 
strong  root  emerges,  and  a  mass  of 
roots  is  soon  produced  within  the 
excelsiorlike  covering,  but  inside  the 
waterproof  cover  of  the  nut,  which,  for 
the  purpose  of  illustration,  has  been  re- 
moved. WJien  the  nut  fields  the  proper 
enviroaiment,  the  roots  burst  forth  and 
'grow  rapidly,  A  tall  stalk  soon  ap- 
pears, which  finally  becomes  the  trunk 
of  the  new  palm. 


INGENUITY   IN   VARIATION   139 

We  do  not  have  to  go  to  the  tropics  for  e\a- 
dences  like  these. 

There  is  probably  no  more  familiar  weed  in 
our  vacant  lots  than  the  common  dandelion 
(Taraxacum). 

Who  can  forget  its  feathery  seed  ball  waiting 
when  ripe  for  the  first  youngster,  or  the  first 
draft  of  air  to  blow  it  away  on  its  long  sail 
through  the  air  as  it  distributes  its  seeds — some 
on  stones,  perhaps,  and  some  on  plowed 
ground,  or  in  our  lawns  where  it  becomes  a 
pest  —  such  a  multitude  of  seeds  that,  though 
many  be  lost,  some  will  find  themselves  throw- 
ing roots  into  new  soil  —  starting  life  in  a  new 
environment. 

Or  we  might  learn  a  lesson  from  one  of  the 
wild  chicories  (Cichorium)  which  provides  some 
of  its  seeds  with  wings  to  fly,  while  others  it 
leaves  wingless.  Those  seeds  without  wings  fall 
at  the  feet  of  the  parent  plant  as  if  to  keep  green 
the  old  family  home;  while  those  with  wings  fly 
away  to  start  new  families,  under  new  condi- 
tions, where  patent  traits  and  tendencies — 
latent  elements  of  weakness  or  strength — may 
cooperate  to  produce  a  chicory  better  adapted 
to  its  new  en\"ironment. 

Or  from  that  joy  of  childliood,  the  squirting 
cucumber  (Ecballium)  which,  when  ripe,  fires  its 


THE    DEVIL'S-CLAW— I 

As  it  grows  in  the  tropics,  or  in  our 
gardens  J  the  seed  pod  of  the  deviVs-claw, 
or  7nartynia,  shown  here,  resembles  a 
gourd  in  color  and  in  texture  of  its 
covering.  The  succeeding  prints  show 
how  it  transforms  itself  to  bite  and  hold 
on  to  passing  animals  with  a  bulldog 
grip.  The  young  fruits  are  sometimes 
used  for  pickling. 


INGENUITY    IN    VARIATION    141 

seeds  with  such  force  that  they  are  sometimes 
carried  a  distance  of  twelve  to  fifteen  feet. 

Or  even  the  sweet  peas,  or  our  garden  pea, 
which  when  their  pods  have  dried,  have  the  abil- 
ity to  throw  the  seeds  some  distance  from  the 
parent  plant. 

In  IMexico  there  is  the  familiar  bronco  or 
jumping  bean,  belonging  to  the  spurge  family, 
Which  calls  in  an  insect  to  aid  in  the  distribution 
of  its  seeds. 

While  these  beans  are  still  green,  they  are 
visited  by  a  moth  which  lays  her  eggs  in  them. 
As  they  ripen,  the  grub  hatches  out  and  lives 
upon  a  part  of  the  food  stored  within. 

As  if  in  partnership  with  the  moth,  the  jump- 
ing bean  tree  has  provided  food  for  her  off- 
spring, so  that  the  larva  has  plenty  to  eat  with- 
out injuring  the  seed  within  the  bean. 

And  the  grub,  as  it  hollows  out  the  bean  and 
jumps  about  within  it,  causes  it  to  turn  and  roll 
— rolls  it  into  a  new  environment — repays  its 
family  debt  to  the  tree  which  gave  it  food. 

The  devil's-claw  (Martynia)  has  developed  a 
curious  power  to  bite  and  cling  with  bulldoglike 
grip,  in  its  scheme  of  providing  new  environ- 
ments for  its  young. 

This  spreading  tropical  plant  requires  consid- 
erable room  to  perfect  its  growth,  grov-dng  low 


THE    DEVIL'S-CLAW— II 

Marty  Ilia  seed  pod  in  the  act  of  shed- 
ding its  outside  covering,  leaving  the 
sharp  claws  ready  for  business. 


INGENUITY    IN   VARIATION    143 

on  the  ground  among  other  vegetation  where  the 
distribution  of  seed  becomes  a  problem,  grows  a 
seed  pod  of  seven  inches  or  more  in  length. 

Its  seed  pod,  while  maturing,  is  incased  in  a 
pulpy  covering  with  a  thick  green  skin,  and  its 
bulb  and  hook  suggest  some  kind  of  gourd. 

When  the  seeds  witliin  are  mature,  the  outside 
covering  sphts  and  peels  away,  disclosing  a  seed 
nest  which  is  armored  with  spines  as  thickly  as 
a  prickl}^  pear.  That  which,  during  its  early 
stages,  formed  the  hook,  now  spreads  into  two 
branches  with  pointed  ends  as  sharp  as  needles. 

Between  these  four-inch  hooks,  w^here  they 
join  the  spiny  bulb  behind  them,  there  appears 
a  hole  from  which  the  seeds,  if  loosened  from 
their  former  pulpy  support,  may,  by  pounding 
and  thumping,  find  their  way  one  by  one  out  into 
the  world. 

As  the  seed  pod  lies  on  the  ground,  its  sharp 
hooks  coiled  in  exactly  the  right  position,  it 
aw^aits  a  passing  animal.  This  spring  trap  may 
remain  set  for  many  months,  but  once  an  animal, 
large  or  small,  steps  between  those  fishhook 
points,  their  mission  is  with  great  certainty  ac- 
complished. The  first  slight  kick  or  struggle  to 
get  away,  imbeds  them  more  deeply,  and  at  each 
succeeding  struggle  the  hooks  bite  in,  and  in, 
until  finally  the  animal  starts  to  kick  and  run. 


THE   DEVIL'S-CLAW— III 

Having  completely  shed  its  gourd- 
like  covering,  and  with  its  jaws  set  for 
a  passing  animal,  it  will  be  seen  that 
the  pod  itself  is  covered  with  prickly 
spines.  When  the  fishhook  points  of 
the  prongs  bite  into  the  leg  of  an  ani- 
mal, the  whole  contrivance  becomes 
balanced  from  these  points,  and  at  each 
jolt  and  jounce  the  heavier  body  of  the 
pod  pounds  down  upon  the  leg,  its 
spines  causing  great  pain.  There  is  a 
small  opening  between  the  two  prongs 
at  the  upper  end  of  the  pod  itself  from 
which  the  seeds  come  out,  one  at  a  time, 
at  every  bounce.  When  these  are  scat- 
tered over  a  mile  or  two  of  new  en- 
vironment, the  pod  has  performed  its 
appointed  mission. 


INGENUITY    IN   VARIATION    145 

Swinging  to  a  leg  or  tail,  suspended  by  the 
two  sharp  points  of  its  prongs,  the  spiny  hous- 
ing of  the  seed  pod  now  comes  into  play.  At 
each  bound  or  jump,  the  pod  flops  up  and  down 
and  its  prickly  points,  adding  to  the  pain  of  the 
ever-pinching  hooks,  are  sure  to  keep  the  animal 
in  motion.  As  the  frightened  beast  makes  haste 
to  get  away  from  an  enemy  which  it  cannot  see, 
the  seeds  within  the  pod  are  shaken  one  by  one 
through  the  narrow  opening,  falling  on  the 
ground. 

The  sailor  is  aw^ed  by  the  mountains,  and  the 
mountaineer  is  awed  by  the  sea. 

And  we,  too,  are  more  apt  to  wonder  at  the 
jumping  beans  of  Mexico  and  at  the  devil's-claw 
of  the  tropics  than  at  the  cherry  tree  in  our  own 
back  yard  —  which  outdoes  both  of  these  by 
forming  a  double  partnership. 

Just  as  the  dianthus  bids  for  the  bees,  so  the 
cherry  blossom,  with  its  delicate  pink  and  its 
offering  of  fragrance  and  honey,  advertises  for 
butterflies  and  bees  to  bring  the  pollen  from 
some  neighboring  tree. 

And  this  partnership  concluded,  the  accounts 
balanced,  and  the  books  closed,  it  then  seeks  new 
partners  in  the  birds. 

That  delicious  meat  around  the  seed,  that  shiny 
skin  of  red,  and  that  odor  of  the  cheriy  as  it 


146  LUTHER   BURBANK 

ripens — these  are  a  part  of  the  advertisement  to 
the  birds  or  animals — a  lure  to  get  them  to  eat 
the  finiit  and  carry  the  seed  as  far  away  as  they 
may  to  another — a  new — environment. 

Shall  we  wonder  at  the  jumping  bean  and  the 
devil's-claw  when  our  own  cherry  tree  is  getting 
the  bees  to  give  its  offspring  new  heredities  and 
the  birds  to  surround  these  heredities  with  new 
environments  in  which  to  grow? 

Wherever  we  look  we  see  a  new  display  of 
ingenuity — all  for  the  sake  of  variation — varia- 
tion v^hich  may  mean  retrogression  as  well  as 
advancement — but  such  infinite  variation  that, 
surely,  there  can  be  found  one  out  of  a  thousand, 
or  one  out  of  ten  thousand,  or  one  out  of  a  mil- 
lion better  adapted  than  those  that  went  before. 

Every  flower  that  delights  our  eye,  and  every 
fruit  which  pleases  oiir  palate,  and  every  plant 
which  yields  us  a  useful  substance,  is  as  delight- 
ful as  it  is,  or  as  pleasing  or  as  useful  as  it  is, 
simply  because  of  the  improvement  which  has 
been  made  possible  through  variation. 


No  two  living  things  are  exactly 
alike. 


THE  RIVALRY  OF  PLANTS 
TO  PLEASE  US 

On  the  Forward  March  of 
Adaptation 

*'"¥  7J  TE  cut  our  alfalfa  four  or  five  times 

\  \  each    season,"    says    some    one,    "why 

doesn't  it  grow  spines  to  protect  itself? 

We  destroy  our  lettuce  before  it  goes  to  seed; 

why  doesn't  it  develop    a  protective    bitterness 

like  the  sagebrush? 

"We  rob  our  apple  trees  of  all  their  fruit  the 
moment  they  are  ripe;  why  do  they  not  become 
poisonous  like  the  desert  euphorbias?" 

As  we  have  taken  the  cactus  as  an  example,  let 
us  go  back  to  it  and  read  the  answer. 

Grim  and  threatening  though  the  cactus 
seems,  it  is  not  ^Wthout  its  softer  side;  in  the 
springtime  its  blossoms,  a  multitude  of  them, 
push  their  way  through  the  spiny  armor — and 
rival  the  rose  in  beauty  of  form  and  color,  even 
competing  with  the  orchid  in  the  delicacy  of  their 
hues. 

147 


148  LUTHER   BURBANK 

No  favorite  garden  flower  can  outdo  this 
ungainly  monster  of  the  desert,  when  in  bloom, 
in  the  seductiveness  of  its  advertisements  put 
forth  to  attract  insects. 

When  summer  comes,  and  the  insects  have 
paid,  by  the  services  rendered,  for  the  honey 
taken,  the  nest  of  fertile  eggs  beneath  each 
cactus  blossom  begins  to  grow  into  a  more  or  less 
luscious  fruit. 

In  this  cactus  fruit  there  is  a  sweetness  which 
makes  the  fruit  as  tempting  as  that  of  the  straw- 
berry, raspberry,  banana,  or  orange.  Its  outer 
covering,  in  some  of  the  improved  varieties,  is  as 
beautiful  and  varied  as  that  of  the  apple  or  the 
peach. 

Thus,  in  the  springtime,  the  cactus,  like  the 
cherry,  advertises  to  the  friendly  insects  to  bring 
its  offspring  new  heredities,  and  in  the  fall  it 
advertises  to  the  friendly  birds  to  carry  off  its 
seed  and  plant  it  where  its  young  may  have  the 
advantages  of  new  environment. 

In  its  brilliant  flowers  and  tempting  fruit  we 
read  its  receptiveness  to  the  friendship  of  the 
birds  and  bees. 

Those  spines  and  flowers  and  fruits  tell  us 
that,  while  its  ancestors  were  fighting  a  common 
foe,  they  still  found  time  to  build  up  lasting  part- 
nerships. 


RIVALRY   OF   PLANTS  149 

And  so,  with  every  plant  that  grows,  we  shall 
see  these  same  tendencies — ^instincts  shall  we  call 
them? — to  ward  off  the  enemy  and  make  use  of 
the  friend. 

So  long  as  plants  grow  wild,  the  frosts,  the 
winds,  the  hailstorms,  the  droughts,  and  the  ani- 
mals are  principal  among  the  enemies  with  which 
they  have  to  reckon. 

So  long  as  they  grow  in  the  woods,  or 
on  the  mountains,  or  in  the  deserts,  the  bees 
and  the  birds  and  the  butterflies  —  the  warmth 
of  the  sun  and  moisture  and  fertility  of  the  soil 
— these  are  among  the  friendly  factors  in 
their  lives. 

But  when  we  take  plants  under  cultivation, 
we  upset  their  whole  environment. 

We  build  fences  around  our  blackberries  so 
that  they  need  no  thorns.  We  save  the  seeds  of 
our  radishes,  and  the  bulbs  of  our  lilies,  and 
through  human  organization  distribute  them  and 
plant  them  wherever  they  will  grow.  We  cut 
grafts  from  our  apple  trees  and  ship  them  from 
county  to  county,  and  State  to  State,  and  nation 
to  nation,  and  zone  to  zone.  We  select,  and  im- 
prove, and  plow,  and  harrow  the  ground  for  our 
plants;  we  water  them  when  they  are  dry;  we 
surround  them  with  shade  trees  if  they  need 
shade,  we  cut  down  the  shade  trees  if  they  prefer 


150  LUTHER   BURBANK 

the  sun;  we  plant  their  baby  seedlings  under 
glass,  and  give  them  every  favoring  condition  in 
which  to  mature;  we  remove  what  for  ages  have 
been  the  chief  problems  of  their  lives — ^we  take 
over  their  two  prime  burdens,  the  burdens  of 
self-defense  and  reproduction. 

The  frosts,  and  the  winds,  and  the  hailstorms, 
and  the  droughts,  and  the  animals  are  no  longer 
the  chief  enemies  of  plants;  for  man,  when  he 
comes  into  their  environment,  is  more  dreadful 
than  all  of  these  combined— if  he  chooses  to 
destroy. 

And  the  bees  and  the  birds  and  the  butterflies, 
and  the  warmth  of  the  sun,  and  the  moisture  in 
the  soil,  fade  into  insignificance  as  friendly  in- 
fluences when  compared  with  that  of  man — ^if  it 
pleases  him  to  be  a  friend. 

So  the  cherry  tree  and  dianthus  still  advertise 
to  the  bees  and  birds,  as  of  old. 

But  their  main  advertisement,  now,  is  an  ad- 
vertisement to  us;  their  strongest  effort,  now 
that  we  have  become  predominant  in  their  hves, 
is  to  lure  with  their  blossoms  and  their  fruit — ^to 
enchant  us  with  their  odors,  and  colors,  and  lus- 
ciousness,  as  they  formerly  enchanted  only  the 
bees — to  win  and  hold  our  appreciation  and 
affection,  and  merit  our  kindly  attention  and 
care. 


RIVALRY    OF    PLANTS  151 

Our  alfalfa,  lettuce,  and  apples,  like  our 
horses,  our  cows,  our  dogs,  have  found  in  man 
a  friend  stronger  than  the  strongest  of  their 
enemies. 

So  their  welfare  now  is  measured  by  the  use- 
fulness of  service  they  can  render  in  repayment 
for  man's  care. 

There  is  a  common  snowball  in  my  yard  which 
advertises  alone  to  me. 

In  the  woods  around  there  are  other  snow- 
balls of  the  same  family — wild  snowballs — ^into 
whose  life  history  man,  as  a  part  of  environment, 
has  never  come,  except  perhaps  to  destroy. 

The  wild  snowball,  with  only  a  fringe  of  blos- 
soms, and  a  mass  of  egg  nests  and  pollen  inside 
the  fringe,  is  still  advertising  to  the  bee. 

But  the  snowball  in  my  yard  has  responded  to 
my  care  and  the  care  of  those  who  went  before 
me,  till  its  stamens  and  pistils,  as  if  seeing  their 
needlessness,  have  turned  to  petals — ^till  its  eggs 
have  grown  sterile,  even  should  an  insect  come. 

And  so,  with  every  snowball  which  is  grown 
for  the  beauty  of  its  flowers — cultivation  has  re- 
lieved it  of  the  need  for  reproduction,  and  what 
once  was  but  a  fringe  of  flowers  has  been  trans- 
formed into  a  solid  mass  of  blossoms. 

Just  as  a  mother  cat  can  make  a  dumb  appeal 
for  the    protection    or   the    sustenance    of   her 


THE    SNOWBALL— CULTI- 
VATED   AND    WILD 

The  upper  cluster  of  flowers  is  the 
one  which  is  grown  for  its  ball  of  white 
flowers.  The  snowball  flowers  below 
are  wild,  such  as  grow  in  the  woods. 
The  wild  snowball,  it  will  be  seen,  uses 
the  flowers  to  attract  messengers  of 
pollination  to  the  reproductive  mecha- 
nism which  the  outside  flowers  encircle. 
The  upper  snowball,  however,  has  lost 
its  power  of  reproduction  by  seed,  and 
advertises  to  us,  instead,  to  perpetuate 
its  race. 


RIVALRY    OF    PLANTS  153 

kittens,  an  appeal  no  human  being  can  misun- 
derstand, just  as  strongly  and  just  as  clearly  do 
the  snowballs,  by  the  beauty  and  helplessness  of 
their  self-sterilized  flowers,  appeal  to  us  to  see 
to  their  protection  and  effect  the  perpetuation  of 
their  kind. 

Many  violets,  as  they  grow  wild  in  the  woods, 
bear  tw^o  kinds  of  blossoms. 

One  is  the  flower,  rich  in  color  and  often 
in  fragrance,  which  is  borne  at  the  top  of 
the  plant. 

The  other,  an  egg  nest  without  petals,  odor,  or 
beauty,  or  other  advertisement — ^which  is  borne 
near  the  base  of  the  plant. 

The  flower  at  the  top,  like  the  flower  of  a 
geranium,  advertises  to  the  insects  to  bring 
pollen  from  other  plants. 

The  flowerless  egg  nest  below  needs  no  insect 
to  bring  it  pollen — it  pollinates  itself  and  pro- 
duces fertile  eggs  with  only  a  single  strain  of 
heredity;  this  through  necessity  and  not  to  the 
best  interest  of  the  heredity  of  the  plant,  though 
these  are  fertile  seeds. 

Some  of  these  violets  with  upper  and  lower 
blossoms,  particularly  those  which  grow  in  the 
shade,  never  open  their  upper  flowers — as  if 
knowing  that  the  friendly  insects  so  prefer  the 
sun  that  no  attempt  at  advertisement  could  lure 


154  LUTHER   BURBANK 

them  to  the  shade.  These  violets  reproduce 
themselves  wholly  by  the  self-fertilization  which 
goes  on  within  the  colorless  flower  below. 

And  there  are  violets  of  the  same  kind, 
blooming  in  the  sunlight,  which  open  their 
upper  flowers  so  that,  if  visited  by  insects, 
the  seed  within  matures;  but,  as  if  in  doubt 
(of  the  efl'ectiveness  of  their  advertisement,  the 
lower  blossoms  continue  to  produce  their  in- 
bred seed. 

And  there  are  still  other  violets  which,  as  if 
assured  of  the  friendship  of  the  insects,  have 
ceased  to  make  the  colorless  blossoms  below,  and 
produce  their  entire  output  of  seed  at  the  base  of 
the  brilliant  upper  flower. 

Here,  in  these  three  kinds  of  violets,  is  written 
the  story  of  a  plant's  struggle  with  wild  environ- 
ment in  which  man  has  not  yet  become  a  factor; 
the  story  of  an  unequal  struggle  in  which  the 
stages  of  failure,  partial  victory,  and  complete 
triumph  are  clearly  laid  before  us. 

Into  the  life  of  the  violet,  some  few  hundred 
years  ago,  there  came  a  new  element  of  environ- 
ment— man. 

A  single  violet  plant  which  was  taken  from  its 
fcatch-as-catch-can  existence,  let  us  say,  found  it- 
self in  fine-combed  soil  in  a  shady  place  in  some 
one's  dooryard. 


RIVALRY    OF    PLANTS  155 

If  it  rained  too  much,  drainage  took  up  the 
excess.  When  the  rains  did  not  come,  the  soil 
was  sprinkled. 

Under  cultivation  and  kindly  care  the  dis- 
couragements of  its  life  grew  less  and  less,  and 
the  encouragements  to  thrive  grew  more  and 
more. 

Soon  this  violet,  as  if  assured  of  reproduction, 
abandoned  the  blossoms  at  its  base,  and  threw  its 
energies  into  making  bigger  and  brighter  and 
more  beautiful  blossoms  at  its  top.  Where  it 
had  half-heartedly  advertised  to  the  bees  of  old, 
it  now  concentrated  its  efforts  to  win  the  ap- 
proval of  the  new-found  friend  whose  dooryard 
brought  it  opportunity. 

And  this  is  the  life  story  of  the  violet  which  we 
now  call  the  pansy. 

On  the  one  hand,  in  the  woods,  we  see  its  wild 
kinfolk  still  struggHng  against  unequal  odds ;  on 
the  other  we  see  its  own  large,  beautiful  pansy 
petals,  and  the  increased  brilliancy  of  its  hues; 
each  a  response  to  environment. 

Truly,  in  the  pretty  face  of  the  pansy 
we  may  read  the  vivid  story  of  man's  impor- 
tance as  a  friendly  element  in  the  lives  of 
plants. 

Where  do  the  flowers  get  their  colors? 

From  the  bees,  the  birds,  and  from  us. 


156  LUTHER   BURBANK 

On  the  experiment  farm  at  Sebastopol  there 
grow  two  ordinary-looking  pear  trees  which  am- 
plify the  thought. 

One  of  these  trees  produces  abundantly  aro- 
matic, luscious,  easily  digested  pears — a  delight 
to  the  eye  and  to  the  palate. 

The  other  produces  hard  but  juicy  pears  which 
never  become  mellow  and  uncooked  are  as  indi- 
gestible as  the  quince  before  I  commenced  its 
improvement. 

Looking  at  these  trees  side  by  side,  it  would  be 
difficult  for  the  common  observer  to  realize  that 
their  fruit  could  be  so  different.  In  their  fruit 
alone  do  they  differ. 

Since  these  two  pear  trees  illustrate  an  impor- 
tant point,  let  us  begin  at  the  beginning: 

It  was  in  Eurasia,  some  two  thousand  years 
ago,  that  man  first  perhaps  realized  that  the  pear 
fruit  was  good  to  eat. 

Coming  to  us,  then,  out  of  the  obscurity,  the 
pear,  during  these  twenty  centuries,  has  spread 
to  the  east  and  to  the  west,  until  it  has  com- 
pletely encircled  the  globe — a  slow  process,  but 
one  which  takes  place  in  every  desirable  fruit 
which  is  discovered  or  produced. 

As  Europe  became  more  and  more  settled,  the 
pear  kept  pace  with  the  invaders.  It  followed 
them  to  the  British  Isles,  it  followed  them  across 


RIVALRY    OF    PLANTS  157 

the  Atlantic  to  America.  It  followed  them  west- 
ward across  this  continent  as  the  pioneers  pushed 
their  way  to  the  Pacific. 

In  the  same  way  it  worked  its  eastward  jour- 
ney through  Siberia,  and  China,  and  Japan — • 
more  slowly,  perhaps,  than  under  the  influence 
of  European  and  American  hurry  and  enter- 
prise, but  just  as  constantly,  and  just  as  surely — ■ 
till  now,  in  friendly  climates,  it  is  a  world-wide 
fruit. 

Both  of  the  pear  trees  described  here,  as  in 
fact  all  of  the  pear  trees  which  we  know  to-day, 
seem  to  have  come  from  those  common  parents 
in  eastern  Europe  or  western  Asia. 

The  one  which  bears  the  luscious  fruit  is  the 
Bartlett  pear — an  excellent  though  common 
variety  in  the  United  States. 

The  other,  with  its  bitter,  indigestible  fruit,  is 
one  which  was  imported  from  China.  ] 

The  lesson  which  these  two  pear  trees  teach  is 
that  fruits,  like  flowers  in  their  rivalry  to  please 
us,  adapt  themselves  to  the  tastes,  desires,  and 
ideals  of  the  human  neighbors  among  whom  they 
grow. 

Here,  in  America,  we  like  fruits  that  are  soft, 
large,  sweet,  luscious,  juicy,  aromatic,  easy  to 
digest  when  eaten  raw.  Our  pears  grow  that 
way. 


158  LUTHER   BURBANK 

In  Japan  and  China  they  like  fruits  which  are 
hard  but  juicy,  suitable  for  pickling,  preserving 
or  cooking.  The  Chinese  and  Japanese  pear 
trees  bear  that  kind  of  fruit. 

Neither  the  Oriental  pear,  nor  our  American 
type  is  like  the  original  wild  parent  which  was 
first  discovered  in  Eurasia. 

Each  has  changed — one  toward  one  set  of 
ideals — and  the  other  toward  another  set. 

If  we  could  lay  bare  before  us  the  whole  his- 
tory of  the  pear  tree — if  we  could  picture  in  our 
minds  its  stages  of  progress  beginning  back  in 
the  old  times,  say,  when  instead  of  a  fruit  it 
bore  only  a  seed  pod  like  the  wild  rose — we 
should  see  a  record  of  endless  change,  constant 
adaptation. 

We  should  see  that  soil,  moisture,  sunshine, 
and  air,  throughout  the  ages,  with  the  aid  of 
fruit-loving  animals  and  man,  have  all  played 
their  parts  in  gradually  transforming  the  pear 
tree  into  its  present  state. 

We  should  see  that  other  plants,  crowding  it 
for  room  or  sapping  the  moisture  from  around  it 
or  adding  fertility  to  the  soil  by  their  decaying 
leaves,  have  done  their  share  in  hastening  its  im- 
provement. 

We  should  see  that  the  bees  and  butterflies 
and  birds  with  their  help,  and  the  caterpillars^ 


RIVALRY    OF    PLANTS  159 

locusts,  and  deer  in  their  apparent  destnictive- 
ness,  have  all  served  to  aid  the  onward  march. 

We  should  see  all  the  while  a  steady  change 
for  the  better — sturdier  pear  trees,  brighter  blos- 
soms, more  seed,  better  fruit. 

We  should  sec  that,  with  the  aid  of  the  ele- 
ments, the  pear  tree  adapted  itself  to  exist,  hard- 
ened itself  to  withstand  many  soils  and  many 
weathers. 

We  should  see  that,  with  the  unintended  aid  of 
its  plant  and  animal  enemies,  it  gained  strength 
through  overcoming  them. 

We  should  see  that,  through  the  bees,  it  was 
helped  into  variation  by  combining  heredities; 
and  by  the  birds  and  animals  it  was  helped  into 
still  further  variation  by  wider  distribution  of  its 
seeds. 

Then,  overshadowing  all  of  these  influences 
there  came  into  its  life  new  influences  of  man — 
man  savage  and  civilized.  Oriental  and  Occi- 
dental— man  with  a  liking  for  pears. 

In  Europe  and  here  in  America,  we  who  have 
grown  pears  have  cultivated  the  trees  which  bore 
the  largest,  tenderest  and  most  delicious  pears — 
because  those  were  the  ones  we  liked  best. 

When  we  have  bought  pear  trees  to  plant  in 
our  orchards  and  gardens,  we  have  chosen  those 
which  would  give  us  the  kind  of  fruit  we  prefer. 


160  LUTHER   BURBANK 

The  pear  trees  which  have  pleased  us  have  re- 
ceived our  care  and  cultivation — and  we  have 
multiplied  them.  The  pear  trees  which  have 
failed  to  produce  fruit  up  to  our  ideals  we 
have  neglected  and  allowed  to  die — so  that 
they  have  practically  disappeared  from  our 
orchards. 

The  Orientals,  their  tastes  running  in  opposite 
directions  from  ours,  have  ignored  pear  trees 
which  bore  the  kind  of  fruit  we  prefer,  and  have 
selected,  and  saved,  and  fostered,  and  propa- 
gated those  which  gave  them  the  hard  cooking 
and  pickling  fruit  of  their  ideals. 

And  so  the  struggle  for  adaptation  set  in  mo- 
tion by  the  soil,  the  warmth,  cold,  moisture,  and 
the  winds,  was  supplemented  by  the  bees,  and 
then  by  the  birds  and  other  animals,  until  now  we 
can  read  in  the  result  our  own  influence  and  that 
of  the  Orientals. 

There  are  differences  between  our  dress  and 
the  dress  of  the  Orientals;  between  our  religions 
and  the  religions  of  the  Orientals;  between  our 
ambitions  and  the  Oriental  ambitions;  between 
our  architecture  and  the  architecture  of  the 
Orient — all  reflecting  the  national  or  racial  dif- 
ferences between  the  ideals  of  the  two  peoples. 

And  just  as  surely  as  the  ideals  of  a  people 
influence  the  architecture  and  the  literature  with 


RIVALRY    OF   PLANTS  161 

which  they  surround  themselves,  just  as  surely 
as  they  change  ambitions,  mold  religions  and 
adapt  clothing  to  their  conditions;  just  so  surely 
do  they  influence  and  change  the  characteristics 
of  the  plants  in  whose  environment  the}^  live. 

When  I  say  that  man  is  the  most  important 
element  in  the  environment  of  plants,  I  do  not 
mean  those  few  men  who  devoted  their  lives  to 
the  improvement  of  plants.  I  do  not  mean  the 
botanist,  the  horticulturist,  the  florist,  the  seeds- 
man, the  nurseryman,  the  agricultural  experi- 
mentalist. I  mean  man  in  the  mass — man  busy 
with  his  dry  goods  store,  or  his  steel  company, 
occupied  with  his  law,  or  his  medicine,  weary 
from  his  daily  blacksmithing,  or  his  carpenter- 
ing. I  mean  just  man,  the  neighbor  of  plants, 
whether  he  be  their  friend  or  their  enemy — who- 
ever he  may  be. 

It  was  the  Indian  who  gave  us,  here  in  Amer- 
ica, the  most  important  crop  we  have. 

It  was  the  primitive  races  in  America  who 
adoj^ted  one  of  the  wild  grasses  and  finally  pro- 
duced our  maize;  which,  however,  when  America 
was  discovered,  was  primitive  in  comparison  to 
the  wonderful  varieties  which  have  since  been 
developed. 

Or,  to  turn  about,  it  was  the  desire  of  the 
Indian  for  a  food  plant  like  this  that  led  the 

Vol.  1 — Bur.  F 


SOME    FORMS    OF    CORN 

In  the  direct-color  photograph  print 
shown  here  the  central  ear  is  one  form 
of  the  ^'^podf'  corn,  in  which  each  kernel 
is  incased  in  a  separate  sheath.  The  ear 
at  the  left  is  another  form  of  teosinte 
with  larger  kernels  than  those  in  the 
preceding  print;  from  this  latter  the 
process  by  which  the  kernels  crowded 
each  other  until  the  cob  increased  in  size 
may  be  readily  imagined.  The  ear 
shown  at  the  right  is  an  improved  pop- 
ping corn. 


RIVALRY    OF   PLANTS  163 

EucJilcena,  or  teosinte,  by  gradual  adaptation,  to 
produce  Indian  corn  or  maize. 

On  one  of  my  experiment  farms  there  grows, 
to-day,  this  same  EucJilcena  which  the  Indians 
found. 

It  bears  tinj^  ears  with  two  steel-armored  rows 
of  barleylike  kernels  on  a  central  rachis  not  as 
large  or  as  strong  as  the  central  stalk  of  a  head 
of  Avheat. 

And  when  the  prehistoric  and  more  modern 
races  came  into  its  environment  it  responded  to 
their  influence  as  the  pansy  responded  to  care 
and  cultivation  in  its  new  man-protected  home. 

Where  teosinte  had  formerly  relied  upon  its 
own  resources  to  find  a  suitable  soil  for  its  seed, 
it  found  in  the  Indian  a  friend  who  crudely  but 
effectively  scratched  the  soil  and  doubled  the 
chance  for  its  baby  plants  to  grow. 

Where  it  had  been  choked  by  plant  enemies, 
and  starved  for  air  and  sunlight  by  weeds,  it 
found  in  the  Indian  a  friend  who  cut  down  and 
kept  at  bay  its  competitors. 

Where  it  had  been  often  destroyed  by  the 
animals  before  its  maturity,  it  found  the  selfish 
protection  of  the  ancient  races  as  grateful  as 
though  it  had  been  inspired  by  altruism. 

Planted  in  patches  instead  of  straggling  here 
and  there  as  best  it  could  before,  this  sturdy  grass 


164  LUTHER   BURBANK 

found  its  reproduction  problem  made  easier 
through  the  multitude  of  pollen  grains  now  float- 
ing through  the  air. 

And  so,  by  slow  degrees,  it  responded  to  its 
new  environment  by  bearing  more  and  larger 
seeds. 

As  the  seed  kernels  increased  in  numbers  and 
in  size,  the  supporting  coblet  which  bore  them 
grew  in  sturdiness  and  length. 

From  two,  the  rows  of  kernels  increased  to 
four,  six,  eight,  twelve,  and  now,  in  some  varie- 
ties, to  forty  or  more. 

Here  again  the  selfish  motives  of  the  primitive 
races  served  to  help  the  plant  in  its  adaptation  as 
naturally  the  largest  and  best  developed  ears 
would  be  saved  by  some  one. 

So,  under  cultivation,  the  wild  grass  through 
adaptation  was  transformed  into  Indian  corn. 

There  were  two  wealthy  men  in  England  who 
took  up  the  daffodil  and  narcissus,  growing  end- 
less quantities  of  seedlings  for  amusement. 

Both  of  these  men,  so  it  happened,  were  bank- 
ers. One  was  a  rather  large,  coarse,  strong, 
dominating  type  of  man — not  a  repulsive  man 
by  any  means,  but  lacking  a  little  in  refinement 
and  the  more  delicate  sensibilities. 

The  other  banker  was  a  highly  sensitive,  nerv- 
ous, shrinking  man  with  a  great  eye  for  detail. 


RIVALRY    OF   PLANTS  165 

a  true  appreciation  of  values,  a  man  who  looked 
beneath  the  surface  of  things  and  saw  beauty  in 
hidden  truths,  a  man  who  thought  much  and  said 
little. 

These  men  were  rivals  in  their  daffodil  and 
narcissus-growing  pastime,  and  each  of  them 
succeeded  in  producing  some  wonderful  vari- 
ations and  adaptations  in  their  plants. 

When  these  bankers  died,  their  daffodil  and 
narcissus  bulbs  were  offered  for  sale  and  fell  into 
the  hands  of  a  friend  of  mine,  Peter  Barr,  a  great 
bulb  expert  of  England. 

Peter  Barr  told  me  that  though  the  bulbs 
bought  from  those  two  estates  were  mixed  and 
planted  indiscriminately  on  his  proving  grounds, 
he  could  go  through  a  field  of  those  daffodils  and 
narcissus  and,  simply  by  the  blossoms,  tell  which 
had  come  from  one  estate  and  which  from  the 
other. 

The  flowers  that  came  from  the  bulbs  that 
represented  the  work  of  the  first  mentioned 
banker  were  large,  strong,  coarse,  brightly 
colored  flowers — with  a  beauty  that  called  to 
the  passer-by  as  loud  as  if  with  words,  and  a  self- 
reliant  attitude  as  if  bespeaking  an  ample  abilit}'' 
to  take  care  of  themselves. 

And  the  flowers  which  came  from  the  bulbs 
produced  by  the  second  mentioned  grower  were 


VARIATION    IN    CORN 
SEED 

Material  has  been  found  for  most  of 
the  corn  experiments  in  variations  as 
to  one  quality  or  another  that  appear 
among  plants  of  the  same  species.  It 
may  or  may  not  he  necessary  to  accen- 
tuate variation  by  hybridizing  experi-* 
merits.  The  range  of  Variation  that 
may  he  shown  in  the  seed  of  a  single 
species  is  illustrated  in  this  lot  of  ker- 
nels of  corn,  which  show  surprising 
diversity  in  shape,  size,  and  color.  Num- 
berless  new  varieties  could  he  developed 
through  selective  breeding  from  such  a 
lot  of  seed  as  this,  not  only  as  to  form, 
size,  and  color,  hut  in  productiveness, 
quality,  and  every  other  desirable 
character. 


RIVALRY    OF   PLANTS  167 

charmingly  delicate — unobtrusively  artistic — not 
loud  in  color,  but  gently  alluring. 

It  costs  money  to  ship  oranges,  so  the  more 
the  meat  and  the  less  the  rind,  the  less  we  waste 
in  transportation  charges. 

A  comparison  of  the  wild  orange  with  the 
cultivated  fruit  of  our  orange  groves  shows  how 
this  fruit  has  adapted  itself  to  our  ideas  of 
economy. 

Lettuce  in  the  head  makes  a  more  appetizing 
salad  than  lettuce  in  large,  sprawling  leaves. 

A  comparison  between  wild  lettuce  and  the 
head  lettuce  on  our  green  grocer's  stand  shows 
plant  adaptation  in  a  most  wonderful  way  to  our 
tastes. 

And  so  with  celery,  and  artichokes — and  every 
plant  that  is  grown  for  the  market — wild,  its 
adaptations  are  toward  meeting  wild  environ- 
ments; cultivated,  its  adaptations  are  selected 
toward  fitting  itself  into  our  routine  of  life. 

We  have  seen  the  price  which  variation  costs; 
now  we  begin  to  see  the  value  of  it.  Among 
those  violets,  environment — the  environment  of 
the  present  combining  with  heredity  which  is  the 
recorded  environment  of  all  the  past — contrived 
to  see  that  there  were  no  duplicates;  that  each 
violet,  a  little  different  from  its  mate,  might, 
through  its  difference,  be  suited  to  a  separate 


168  LUTHER    BURBANK 

purpose,  or  fitted  to  carry  a  separate  burden,  or 
designed  to  fill  a  separate  want. 

If  the  violets  had  been  as  like  as  pins,  they 
would  have  stayed  as  like  as  pins  when  planted 
in  that  friendly  dooryard. 

But  because  each  had  within  it  the  power  of 
transmitting  variation,  the  poAver  of  responding, 
ever  so  little,  to  the  trend  of  its  surroundings, 
one  violet  became  a  pansy. 

Among  our  human  acquaintances  we  know 
those  who  are  sturdy,  and  those  who  are  weak; 
those  who  have  well-developed  minds  at  the 
expense  of  their  muscles,  and  those  who  have 
well-developed  muscles  at  the  expense  of  their 
minds,  and  those  with  a  more  evenly  balanced 
development;  we  know  some  who  are  tall  and 
some  who  are  short;  some  w^ith  brown  eyes  and 
some  with  blue;  some  who  lean  toward  com- 
merce, and  some  who  lean  toward  art;  and  on 
and  on,  throughout  an  infinite  number  of  vari- 
ations, an  infinite  combination  of  these  vari- 
ations, each  variation  representing  the  result  of 
present  environment  reacting  upon  all  the  envi- 
ronments of  the  ages,  stored  away. 

As  a  people,  we  traveled  by  stage  till  the 
railroad  came;  and  then  in  a  single  generation, 
because  of  the  variation  and  the  adaptability 
among  us,  we  found  surveyors  to  push  their 


RIVALRY    OF   PLANTS  169 

transits  over  the  hills,  and  valleys,  and  streams; 
we  found  woodchoppers  to  make  ties,  we  found 
steel  makers  who  for  the  first  time  in  their  lives 
fashioned  a  rail,  we  found  engineers,  and  fire- 
men, and  switchmen  and  superintendents,  and 
railroad  presidents,  each  to  play  his  part  in  ful- 
filling the  great  common  desire  for  transporta- 
tion, each  able  to  adapt  himself  to  new  duties — 
and  all  because  of  this  acquired  variation  that  is 
within  us. 

As  a  people,  we  submitted  to  a  ruler  across  the 
seas  till  among  our  variant  individuals  there 
arose  some  who,  different  from  the  rest,  adapted 
themselves  to  the  formulation  of  a  declaration  of 
independence,  the  framing  of  a  code  of  prin- 
ciples, the  organization  of  a  successful  revolution. 

As  a  people,  threatened  with  the  constant  peril 
of  cures  which  were  worse  than  their  diseases, 
there  appeared  out  of  the  variable  mass  one  who 
gave  us  antiseptic  surgery. 

Where  are  those  who,  a  century  ago,  said 
that  railroads  could  never  be?  Where  are 
the  Tories  of  revolutionarj'-  times?  And  where 
are  those  barbers  of  ancient  days  with  their 
cupping  glasses  and  their  lancets  and  their 
leeches? 

Ah,  where  are  the  pear  trees  of  Eurasia  that 
failed  to  fit  into  the  scheme  of  adaptation — where 


RAINBOW   CORN 

In  previous  chapters  of  this  volume 
there  have  been  shown  several  direct- 
color  photograph  prints  hearing  on  the 
evolution  of  corn.  The  plant  shown 
here  is  still  another  variation,  grown 
only  for  ornamental  purposes,  which 
has  been  brought  about.  As  can  be 
seen  from  the  print,  the  leaves  take  on 
the  brilliant  colors  of  the  spectrum — 
bright  reds,  yellows,  and  purples  inter- 
mingling with  the  green.  For  decora- 
tive purposes  rainbow  corn  is  a  great 
success. 


RIVALRY   OF   PLANTS  171 

are  the  dianthus  plants  that  did  not  learn  to 
advertise  to  the  bee — and  where  are  the  desert 
cactus  plants  that  could  not  protect  themselves 
with  thorns? 

On  and  on  we  go,  one  step  backward  some- 
times, then  two  steps  forward — marking  time 
awhile,  then  onward  with  a  spurt — the  pear  tree, 
the  dianthus,  the  cactus  plants,  and  we — each 
individual  among  us  a  little  different  from  the 
rest,  each  with  a  separate  combination  of  old 
environment  stored  within  us,  finding  always 
an  infinity  of  new  environment  to  bring  it  out; 
growing  up  together,  the  pear  trees,  the  dian- 
thus, the  cactus  plants  and  we,  all  of  us  depend- 
ing on  the  others,  and  each  of  us  playing  his 
separate  part  in  the  march  of  adaptation. 

On  and  on  we  go,  because  of  Infinite  Vari- 
ation. 

And  so,  from  whatever  viewpoint  we  approach 
the  study  of  plants— whether  with  an  eager  eye 
to  the  future  and  the  past,  or  whether  with  an 
eye,  opened  only  a  slit,  to  see  simply  the  things 
we  can  touch  and  feel,  we  find  evidences  of  adap- 
tation made  possible  through  variation. 

The  violet,  responding  to  kindness,  became  a 
pansy. 

The  pear,  responding  to  racial  tastes,  adapted 
itself  to  the  Orientals  and  to  us. 


172  LUTHER   BURBANK 

Corn,  responding  to  a  need  for  food,  produced 
forty  times  the  kernels  which  it  had  produced 
before. 

The  orange,  the  lettuce,  the  celery,  and  every 
cultivated  plant  that  grows,  responding  to  our 
market  demands,  have  transformed  themselves  to 
meet  a  readier  sale. 

And  those  daffodil  and  narcissus  seedlings, 
how  eloquently  they  tell  of  the  adaptation  of  a 
plant  to  fit  an  individual  ideal! 

We  studied  electricity  a  long  time  with- 
out much  apparent  practical  benefit.  Then 
suddenly  electric  lights  and  trolley  cars  were 
everywhere. 

We  knew  the  principles  of  sound  vibration  for 
centuries  before  the  telephone  and  the  phono- 
graph appeared,  but  it  took  less  than  a  genera- 
tion to  make  them  universal. 

We  dreamed  motor  carriages  three  hundred 
years  before  we  got  one,  and  then,  in  a  decade, 
we  awoke  to  find  our  dream  come  true. 

And,  almost  from  the  beginning,  man  has 
studied  the  forces  which  go  into  the  make-up 
of  life  without  much  encouragement,  till  now 
these  ages  of  contemplation  have  begun  to 
crystallize  into  thornless  cacti,  stoneless  plums, 
fragrant  calla  lilies  and  a  thousand  other 
results    as    definite    and    perhaps    even    more 


RIVALRY   OF   PLANTS  173 

fundamentally  important  to  the  life  and  well- 
being  of  the  hmnan  race  than  the  trolley 
or  the  telephone  or  the  omnipresent  auto- 
mobile. 

Who  among  us  shall  say  what  new  plants  even 
a  decade  now  may  bring  forth? 


On  and  on  we  go;  one  step  back- 
ward,  sometimes;  then  two  steps 
forward;  marking  time  awhile; 
then  onward  with  a  flight. 


LET  US  NOW  PRODUCE  SOME 
NEW  COLORS  IN  FLOWERS 

Developing  Desired  Characters 
IN  Heredity 

AN  architect,  in  selecting  the  materials  for  his 

A%   structure,  sends  for  limestone  to  Bedford, 

Indiana,  or  for  marble  to  CaiTara,  Italy, 

or  for  bricks  to  Haverstraw,  N.  Y.,  or  for  rustic 

redwood  to  California. 

In  the  process  oi  turning  his  blue  print  into  a 
building,  he  draAvs  on  the  whole  world — a  little 
here  and  a  little  there — for  his  supplies. 

So,  in  the  production  of  a  new  plant  in  which 
we  hope  to  produce  some  definite  useful  results, 
we  must  first  seek  out  the  materials  with  which  to 
build. 

Onl}'-  our  search  will  be,  not  for  substance,  but 
a  search  for  stored-up  heredities — not  a  search 
for  bricks  or  stone  or  lumber,  but  a  search  for 
living  traits. 

The  sturdy  dandelions  in  our  vacant  lots,  with 

their  parachutelike  seed  balls,  reveal  a  structural 

175 


CALIFORNIA   POPPY 

(EschscJioltzia) 

This  direct-color  photograph  print 
shows  the  wild  California  poppy,  so 
called,  golden-yellow,  as  it  grows  in  this 
vicinity.  This  common  wild  flower 
covers  California's  hills  and  valleys  at 
certain  seasons  and  from  it  the  State 
is  supposed  to  have  received  its  name 
''The  Land  of  Fire," 


DEVELOPING   CHARACTERS    177 

ingenuity  and  fitness  to  survive  which  may 
have  cost  ten  thousand  generations  of  patient 
struggle. 

The  sweetness  of  our  cherries,  our  grapes,  our 
plums,  has  been  developed  only  through  ages 
and  ages  of  response  to  environment,  with  some 
environments  so  oft  repeated  that  they  h*.  e 
hardened  into  heredity. 

The  flowers  on  our  lawns  may  have  acquired 
their  colors  in  France,  or  in  Ecuador,  or  in  Si- 
beria; our  nuts  reflect  flavors  acquired  through 
a  world-wide  migration;  and  even  our  early 
vegetables  show  traits  which  hark  back  to 
times  before  animals  and  men  came  into 
their    lives. 

So,  just  as  the  earth  has  stored  up  limestone 
in  Indiana,  and  marble  in  Italy,  and  brick-clay  in 
New  York,  and  five-thousand-year-old  redwoods 
in  California,  for  the  architect  to  draw  upon,  just 
so,  in  a  world  full  of  plants,  representing  an 
infinity  of  ancestrj''  with  its  infinity  of  heredity, 
will  we  find  an  infinity  of  traits  with  which  to 
build. 

If  we  wish  to  change  the  color  of  a  flower,  or 
its  fragrance,  its  size,  or  its  adaptability  to 
climate — if  we  have  it  in  mind  to  transform  a  tree 
or  its  fruit,  or  to  give  any  plant  a  new  ti'ait  or  a 
new  habit — ^the  most  practical  way  is  to  accumu- 


178  LUTHER   BURBANK 

late  and  intensify  the  quality  we  want  out  of  the 
mass  of  heredity  about  us. 

"I  thought,"  says  some  one,  "that  plants  could 
be  transformed  merely  by  changing  the  environ- 
ments in  which  they  grow." 

So  they  can,  if  time  is  no  object.  But  the 
quick  and  economical  way  is  to  take  advantage 
of  the  combined  environments  of  the  past  which 
are  at  our  instant  disposal;  to  short-cut  to  our 
result  by  using  well-established  traits  and  thor- 
oughly formed  habits,  rather  than  to  spend  the 
years  or  lifetimes  which  might  be  necessary  to 
produce  new  traits  and  new  habits  from  the  be- 
ginning. 

It  is  better  to  seek  out,  first,  what  nature  has 
stored  away  for  us,  and  then  to  use  new  environ- 
ments to  improve  or  intensify  traits  and  habits 
M^hich  already  have  the  advantage  of  several  cen- 
turies of  start. 

It  is  the  same  principle  of  economy  which  we 
apply  to  everything  we  do. 

So  long  as  there  is  plenty  of  coal  within  easy 
reach  it  does  not  pay  us  to  build  machines  to 
utilize  the  energy  of  the  sun's  rays  or  of  the  ocean 
tides.  And,  similarly,  so  long  as  there  are  un- 
told thousands  of  plants  embodying,  in  some 
form,  almost  every  conceivable  trait  we  might 
desire — untold  thousands  of  plants  like  the  cac- 


DEVELOPING    CHARACTERS    179 

tiis,  crab  apples,  or  wild  potatoes  waiting  only 
our  attention  to  make  them  useful — we  can  hard- 
ly afford  to  waste  time  in  doing  what  nature 
already,  laboriously,  has  done. 

The  hard  part,  always,  is  to  make  the  start. 

Those  who  are  late  sleepers,  for  example, 
know  the  weeks  of  discouraging  attempts  it 
takes  to  fix  the  habit  of  arising  at  seven  instead 
of  eight,  or  at  six  instead  of  seven.  Yet,  once  we 
have  thoroughly  accustomed  ourselves  to  the  new 
hour  of  awakening,  it  is  just  as  difRcult  to  get 
back  to  the  old  hour  as  it  was  to  get  away  from  it. 

It  is  as  if  the  tendencies  within  us,  having 
accommodated  themselves  to  each  other  and  to 
our  surroundings,  cling  together  tenaciouslj^  to 
maintain  the  equilibrium  between  themselves; 
when  we  change  our  surroundings  they  adjust 
themselves  to  the  change  with  difficulty ;  but  once 
adjusted,  hold  together  as  firmly  again  as  they 
held  before. 

So  in  plant  life;  when  w^e  transplant  a  flower 
or  a  tree,  it  shows  signs,  in  accommodating  itself 
to  its  new  surroundings,  of  evident  distress;  it 
looks  sickly,  its  leaves  droop,  it  gives  many  out- 
ward proofs  of  the  inward  struggle  which  it  is 
undergoing. 

As  soon,  however,  as  its  suddenly  scattered 
tendencies  have  collected  themselves,  the  plant 


A  BURBANK   BONFIRE 

The  photogra'pli  print  here  is  remark- 
able in  that  it  is  made  from  a  color 
photograph  taken  at  night  of  one  of 
our  so-called  $10,000  bonfires.  Such 
a  photograph  in  even  black  and  white 
would  be  extremely  difficult  of  accom- 
plishment. 


DEVELOPING   CHARACTERS    181 

begins  an  era  of  immediate  improvement,  and 
does  as  well  or  better  than  it  did  before  trans- 
planting— as  well,  in  fact,  as  its  new  surround- 
ings will  permit. 

If  new  habits  are  hard  to  start,  new  traits  are 
harder.  It  is  hard  to  teach  a  plant  to  twine 
when  it  has  never  twined  before,  or  to  per- 
suade it  to  be  pink  when  it  has  always  been 
yellow;  just  as  it  is  hard  to  get  a  boy  interested 
in  the  study  of  law  when  his  likes,  all  his  life, 
have  been  along  the  lines  of  engineering  or 
mechanics. 

In  the  establishment  of  a  new  trait,  in  fact,  the 
whole  motion  of  life  must  be  interrupted,  its 
momentum  arrested,  the  resulting  Inertia  over- 
come, and  new  momentum  in  a  new  direction 
gained. 

But,  if  every  difficulty  has  its  recompense,  we 
are  well  repaid  for  the  labor  of  acquiring  or  in- 
stilling a  new  trait  by  the  fact  that,  once  ac- 
quired, it  has  a  tendency  of  its  own  to  increase 
and  expand  and  grow. 

The  boy  who  finally  gets  interested  in  law, 
who  gets  past  the  point  where  it  becomes  an  irk- 
some drudgery,  begins,  at  length,  to  develop  a 
steadfast  love  for  his  work  so  that  what  was  to 
him,  once,  a  bugbear  at  last  becomes  an  absorb- 
ing ideal. 


182  LUTHER   BURBANK 

The  cactus,  for  example,  which  produced  its 
first  spines  with  difficulty,  later  became  more 
and  more  spiny,  even  though  the  need  for  spines 
had  disappeared.  Our  flowers  grow  more  beau- 
tiful, our  fruits  more  luscious  as  their  tendencies 
gain  momentum. 

We  may  take  it  as  a  rule,  almost,  that  a  habit, 
once  fixed,  hardens :  that  a  trait,  once  established, 
grows  stronger  and  stronger. 

The  easiest  way,  therefore,  is  to  work  with 
heredity,  and  not  against  it — to  spend  a  month 
searching  out  a  desirable  trait  or  habit,  rather 
than  to  spend  a  year  or  a  decade  trying  to  over- 
come an  undesirable  one. 

And,  now,  to  a  practical  experiment. 

From  almost  any  seed  house  we  may  procure 
the  seeds  of  two  African  wild  flowers.  One  is  the 
African  orange  daisy,  the  other  a  white  daisy  of 
the  same  family. 

The  orange  daisy  is  a  sun-loving  flower,  as  its 
beautiful,  rich  tint  clearly  testifies. 

The  white  daisy,  by  its  whiteness,  shows 
equally  unmistakable  evidence  of  an  ancestry 
which  has  preferred  the  shade. 

Bright  colored  flowers  are  most  invariably 
those  which  have  grown  in  the  sun.  White 
flowers  are  more  often  those  which  bloom  at 
night. 


DEVELOPING   CHARACTERS    183 

"Because  the  sun  reacts  with  the  soil  to  pro- 
duce bright  colors,  while  the  shade  does  not?"  I 
have  been  asked. 

I  prefer  to  believe  that  insects  make  the  colors. 
The  flowers  which  grow  in  the  bright  light  need 
their  brilliance  to  attract  the  insects,  flowers  in 
the  shade  are  more  easily  observed  if  they  are 
light  or  white  in  color ;  it  is  all  a  matter  of  adver- 
tising contrast;  and,  throughout  the  ages,  each 
particular  flower  has  been  striving  to  perfect  a 
color  contrast  scheme  of  its  own.  It  may  be  that 
the  combination  of  sun  and  soil  makes  possible 
brighter  colors  than  the  combination  of  shade 
and  soil;  but  wind-loving  plants,  like  corn  and 
trees,  which  grow  in  the  sun,  do  not  bedeck  them- 
selves in  colors — only  the  flowers  which  find  it 
necessary  to  attract  the  insects. 

In  practice,  at  any  rate,  the  color  of  a  flower 
is  one  of  the  reliable  guides  in  the  study  of  its 
life  history. 

Taking  the  orange  daisy  and  its  white  cousin 
side  by  side,  we  see  at  once  a  family  resemblance. 

The  leaf  formation,  the  root  formation,  the  ar- 
rangement and  the  number  of  rays,  the  ar- 
rangement of  stamens  and  pistils,  bespeak  the 
fact  that  here  are  two  plants  more  or  less  closely 
related ;  one  orange  and  one  white ;  the  white  one 
a  little  taller,  more  graceful  perhaps,  and  slightly 


THE    CALIFORNIA   POPPY 
TURNED    CRIMSON 

This  beautiful  variation  was  produced 
on  my  place  some  twenty-five  years 
ago.  Many  new  shades  have  been  pro- 
duced here  since  then,  among  them  one 
named  ''Fire  Flairie,"  which  is  an  un- 
usual and  very  pleasing  combination 
of  the  colors  yellow,  orange,  and 
crimson. 


DEVELOPING   CHARACTERS   185 

less  hardy;  but  cousins,  beyond  doubt,  having 
within  them  many  parallel  strains  of  heredity. 

Let  us  assume,  then,  that  the  orange  of  the 
orange  daisy  is  the  heredity  of  ages  of  sunshine 
and  the  white  of  the  other  daisy  is  the  inheritance 
of  ages  of  shade;  there  are  other  indications  in 
the  habits  of  these  plants  to  verify  this  conclu- 
sion; that  both  started  from  the  same  point,  and 
that  one  found  itself  growing  in  cleared  fields, 
while  around  the  other  developed  a  forest  of 
shade;  so  that,  finally,  as  environment  piled  up 
on  environment  and  accumulated  into  heredity, 
each  flower  became  so  firmly  fixed  in  its  own 
characteristics  as  to  constitute  a  species,  as  man 
has  often  chosen  to  call  it,  of  its  own. 

If  we  take  the  seeds  of  the  African  orange 
daisy,  and  plant  them  in  the  shade,  they  will  still 
produce  orange  flowers.  That  is  stored-up 
heredity.  No  doubt,  if  we  continued,  year  after 
year,  to  replant  them  in  the  shade  for  a  century 
or  so,  they  would  begin  to  transform  themselves 
to  white  like  the  other  daisy. 

If  we  plant  the  white  African  daisy  in  the  sun- 
shine, it  will  still  give  us  flowers  of  white — the 
heredity  of  ages  overbalancing  the  pull  of  im- 
mediate environment,  and  needing  a  long-con- 
tinued repetition  of  environment  to  balance  and 
finally  overcome  it;  but  if  we  were  to  keep  it  in 


186  LUTHER   BURBANK 

the  sun  throughout  enough  generations  it  would, 
no  doubt,  bear  us  flowers  of  brilliant  orange. 

Here,  then,  are  two  divergent  strains  of  hered- 
ity in  two  somewhat  closely  related  species- 
one  orange,  one  white — one  sturdy,  one  fragile — 
each  strain  so  thoroughly  fixed  that  in  a  lifetime 
it  would  probably  be  impossible,  through  en- 
vironment alone,  to  overthrow  it. 

Let  us  next  take  a  twenty-foot  flower  bed ;  di- 
vide it  in  the  middle,  plant  one  side  solid  with 
the  orange  daisies,  and  the  other  side  solid  with 
white  daisies,  and  let  the  bees  and  the  breezes 
combine  those  heredities  to  produce  a  perturba- 
tion, through  which  w^e  hope  to  secure  some  new 
colors. 

The  breezes  and  the  bees  carry  the  pollen  from 
flower  to  flower;  the  rays  fall  awa}^  and  dis- 
close the  fertile  seed  in  which,  for  the  first  time, 
these  two  strains  of  heredities  are  combined. 

From  the  millions  of  seeds  which  we  obtain 
from  these  composite  flowers  there  are  some  with 
the  white  tendencies  stored  away  unaltered,  some 
with  the  orange  tendencies  still  predominant — 
some  with  white  pulling  evenly  against  orange, 
some  with  orange  slightly  stronger  than  white, 
and  all  with  an  infinity  of  variation  between. 

We  shall  find  in  some  seeds  a  combination 
of    tendencies,    not    only    of    the    two    species, 


DEVELOPING    CHARACTERS    187 

but  of  the  families  of  the  two  species,  and 
of  the  individuals  of  those  families;  mixed, 
upset,  disturbed  so  thoroughly  that  not  only- 
will  the  life  history  of  bo-th  parents  be  laid 
bare  in  the  resulting  plants,  but  through  the 
blends  new  characteristics,  probably  never  seen 
before,  will  show  themselves. 

Here  we  have  taken  two  plants  which,  since 
the  beginning,  have  been  storing  up  traits;  each 
working  out  its  own  destiny;  each  separated 
from  the  other,  perhaps  by  a  mountain  range  or 
a  lake,  and  thus  never  before  brought  to  a  place 
where  those  heredities  could  combine;  then  in  a 
single  season,  through  combinations,  w^e  produce 
the  seed  for  a  new  daisy  reflecting  every  con- 
ceivable blend  of  those  different  heredities. 

When  we  plant  this  seed  the  following  spring, 
we  shall  have  pure  orange  daisies,  pure  white 
daisies,  perhaps  pink  ones,  yellow  ones;  daisies 
large  and  daisies  small;  daisies  with  big  black 
centers,  and  daisies  in  which  the  centers  are  col- 
ored the  same  as  the  rays. 

We  shall  find  some  a  deeper  orange  than  the 
orange  daisy  because  the  balance  which  has  de- 
termined the  established  shade  of  orange  has 
been  upset. 

We  shall  find  purer  whites  than  the  white  daisy 
ever  knew — as  a  result  of  the  combination. 


THE    CALIFORNIA   POPPY 
TURNING   WHITE 

A  nearly  white  California  poppy  is 
sometimes  found  growing  wild.  After 
several  years'  selection  these  product 
pure  white  flowers  from  seed,  and  by 
further  selection  will  ''come  true"  from 
seed. 


DEVELOPING    CHARACTERS     189 

We  shall  find  daisies  with  rays  whose  color 
front  and  back  is  the  same,  and  daisies  with  dif- 
ferent colors  inside  and  out. 

We  shall,  in  short,  find  all  of  the  old  inherit- 
ances of  the  flower  and  of  the  combinations  of 
them — all  of  the  colors,  shapes,  sizes,  forms,  ele- 
ments of  strength  or  weakness — uncovered  be- 
fore us. 

And  between  the  white  and  the  orange  we 
have  but  to  select  the  particular  flower  of  our 
fancy. 

If  the  flower  we  select,  perchance,  showed 
some  weakness,  or  if  its  tint  were  a  little  too  light 
or  too  dark,  or  if  for  any  other  reason  among 
this  infinite  color  variation  we  did  not  find  the 
exact  result  we  sought,  another  season  or  still  an- 
other would  surely  bring  it  forth;  for  next  year, 
instead  of  planting  white  and  orange,  we  should 
plant  a  selection  of  our  new  daisies,  and  instead 
of  getting  a  combination  of  two  parentages,  we 
should  get  a  combination  of  combinations. 

Then,  having  secured  the  color  called  for  in 
our  original  mental  blue  print,  we  might  find 
structural  improvements  to  make  in  the  flower — 
M-e  might  want  to  increase  its  height  or  to 
lengthen  the  daily  period  of  its  opening,  or  to 
rearrange  its  rays  into  a  more  chrysanthemum- 
like form,  or  to  increase  or  decrease  the  size  of 


190  LUTHER  BURBANK 

its  center — or  to  accomplish  any  one  of  a  num- 
ber of  other  ideals  which  we  may  have  set  up  for 
our  production. 

So  on  we  go,  season  after  season,  always  select- 
ing, obtaining  one  this  year  which  bears  seeds  for 
next,  with  the  bees  and  the  winds  anxious  to 
carry  on  the  work,  if  we  are  too  lazy  or  do  not 
have  the  time;  narrowing  our  lines  of  heredity 
down  and  down  until  finally  some  day — maybe 
fourteen  months  after  the  experiment  began,  or 
maybe  fourteen  years,  we  can  say:  "Here  is  a 
plant  such  as  no  man  ever  saw  before — here  is 
the  exact  plant  which  we  have  planned." 

"But  will  the  seed  of  this  new  daisy,"  some 
one  asks,  "produce  more  daisies  of  this  same 
color?" 

Of  all  of  the  seeds  of  that  daisy  there  might 
not  be  one  which  would  reproduce  the  color  which 
we  have  obtained.  The  seeds  of  that  daisy  sown 
together  in  a  bed  may  be  expected  to  show  as 
great  a  variation  as  the  seeds  of  the  white  and 
the  orange  exhibited  when  they  were  first  planted 
after  the  bees  and  the  winds  had  done  their 
work. 

But  there  need  be  no  discouragement.  By  di- 
viding the  roots  of  many  plants  or  raising  them 
from  slips  or  cuttings  we  can,  in  a  single  season, 
from  a  smgle  plant,  produce  a  great  quantity  of 


DEVELOPING    CHARACTERS     191 

plants  —  each  similar  to  the  original  plant,  be- 
cause each,  in  fact,  is  a  part  of  the  original 
plant. 

But  by  keeping  our  new  pink  daisies  together 
year  after  year,  in  perhaps  six  j^ears  or  ten  or 
fourteen,  pink  being  crossed  with  pink,  and  the 
equilibrium  restored,  we  should  find  that  we  were 
getting  seeds  which  would  come  true,  or  nearly 
true  to  type. 

We  greatly  disturb  heredity  to  produce  varia- 
tions; then  we  select  the  variation  which  pleases 
us  and  fix  it  by  further  selection  and  repetition. 

The  architect  can  always  build  a  second  struc- 
tvire  better  than  the  first,  and  the  plant  improver 
likewise  finds  in  each  experiment  a  multitude  of 
new  suggestions  for  the  production  of  still  other 
changes  and  improvements. 

In  even  the  handful  of  daisy  variations  which 
can  be  reproduced  here  there  are  to  be  seen 
countless  new  tendencies,  any  one  of  which  might 
lead  to  the  perfection  of  a  wholly  different,  if  not 
a  better  flower. 

There  are,  of  course,  the  variations  in  size — 
and  those  with  the  long  petals  show  that  with 
encouragement  the  flower,  simply  by  quantity 
production  and  continued  selection,  might  pro- 
duce an  ofl'spring  with  blossoms  much  larger 
than  those  of  either  parent. 


"STAR"— CHILEAN   WILD 
FLOWER 

Three  thousand  six  hundred  varieties 
of  wild  flowers  have  been  sent  me  by 
one  collector  in  Chile,  the  major  part 
of  which  are  unnamed  and  unclassified. 
Here  is  one  that  shows  interesting 
peculiarities  of  petal  that  give  it  dis- 
tinction anywhere,  jllso  it  is  beautiful, 
as  a  glance  at  the  picture  shows. 


DEVELOPING    CHARACTERS     193 

Some  may  exhibit  a  tendency  toward  double- 
ness  which  gives  rise  to  the  thought  that  the 
new  daisy,  if  desirable,  might  be  made  as  double 
as  our  roses  and  carnations;  in  fact,  this  has  al- 
ready been  done. 

In  other  variation  it  might  be  noted  that  some 
are  pink,  yellow,  or  intermediate  colors,  while 
others  may  show  deep  red  or  purple  streaks  on 
the  backs  of  their  rays.  From  these  it  might 
reasonably  be  expected  to  produce  a  daisy  hav- 
ing one  color  within  and  another  color  without. 

From  the  bed  of  seedlings  with  no  two  daisies 
exactly  alike,  there  might  be  prepared  a  list  of  a 
thousand  different  tendencies,  each  susceptible 
of  cultivation,  each  the  possible  starting  point  of 
some  new  transformation. 

It  is  only  when  the  life  history  of  a  plant,  with 
all  of  its  divergent  tendencies,  is  uncovered  in 
some  such  way  as  this,  that  the  plant  architect 
can  see  the  full  possibilities  of  further  improve- 
ment. 

The  daisy  which  we  use  especially  for  the  pur- 
pose of  illustrating  this  chapter  may,  or  may  not, 
be  a  desirable  production — it  may  or  may  not  re- 
pay the  thought  and  effort  which  it  cost — but  it 
shows  the  simplest  method  which  the  plant  archi- 
tect has  within  his  reach — a  method  which,  ap- 
plied in  the  same  way  toward  the  accomplishment 

Vol.  1 — Bur.  a 


194  LUTHER  BURBANK 

of  a  more  utilitarian  purpose,  has  meant  and  will, 
more  and  more,  continue  to  mean  untold  for- 
tunes of  added  wealth  to  the  world. 

In  order  that  the  illustration  may  be  com- 
plete, let  us  sketch  some  of  the  possibilities  of 
employing  this  method. 

Let  us  begin  with  some  garden  vegetable 
which  for  centuries  has  been  acquiring  traits 
along  the  lines  in  which  we  have  encouraged 
it  —  working  away,  always,  from  the  wild, 
and  toward  the  accomplishment  of  our 
ideals. 

Let  us  say  that  we  have  been  selecting  it,  un- 
consciously perhaps,  for  its  tenderness,  or  sweet- 
ness, or  early  ripening,  or  productivity,  or  along 
any  line  which  has  made  it  more  desirable  or 
more  marketable. 

Its  evolution,  then,  has  been  simply  a  slow 
response  to  a  new  environment  which  for  the 
first  time  in  its  history  included  man. 

Suppose,  now,  that  we  desire  to  work,  in  a 
single  season  or  a  dozen  seasons,  an  improve- 
ment in  this  vegetable  which  will  overshadow  all 
of  the  improvement  which  countless  generations 
of  cultivation  and  unconscious  selection  have 
wrought. 

Our  first  step  is  to  secure  its  wild  counterpart 
— inedible,    maybe;    sour,    perhaps;    tough,    no 


DEVELOPING    CHARACTERS     195 

doubt;  wholly  undesirable  as  compared  with  the 
plant  which  the  seed  bought  at  any  grocery  store 
will  produce. 

Nevertheless,  in  the  wild  brother  of  our  plant 
there  is  confined  an  infinity  of  old  heredity  just 
as  an  infinity  of  old  heredity  was  confined 
in  those  two  daisies;  and  the  bees  and  the 
winds  can  bring  forth  variation  between  the 
tame  and  the  wild  just  as  striking  and  just 
as  widely  divergent  as  the  variations  in  the 
daisies. 

Without  doubt  the  first  attempt  to  combine 
the  heredities  of  tame  and  wild  might  produce  no 
improvement — only  retrogression.  But  if  we 
make  numerous  selections  from  a  multitude  of 
plants,  we  shall  soon  see  before  us  evidences  of 
all  of  the  tendencies  of  the  plant — which,  though 
perhaps  not  desirable,  point  the  way  to  an  end 
worthy  of  accomplishment. 

Then,  instead  of  working  with  a  single  wild 
and  a  single  cultivated  plant,  if  we  seek  out  a 
dozen  wild  plants  or  a  hundred  of  them — some 
plants  from  mountain  environments  and  some 
from  swamps,  some  from  rich  woodland  soil, 
and  some  from  the  desert,  we  shall  get  a  still  bet- 
ter idea  of  the  possibilities  stored  within  the 
plant — which  need  only  combination  and  selec- 
tion to  bring  forth  a  perfected  product. 


A  [BED   OF   CHINESE 
PINKS 

Here  large  niimhers  of  the  Chinese 
pinks  have  been  allowed  to  run  riot, 
that  each  plant  might  prove  its  capac- 
ities in  competition  with  its  fellows. 
Each  day  we  go  through  such  a  bed, 
singling  out  and  marking  the  half 
dozen  or  so  plants  that  most  fully  meet 
approval. 


DEVELOPING    CHARACTERS     197 

Or,  suppose  we  have  a  tree  which  bears  de- 
licious fruit  in  small  quantities. 

Let  us  then  find  one  with  a  tendency  to  over- 
produce, even  though  its  fruit,  in  size,  flavor,  and 
appearance,  be  inferior. 

In  some  combination  between  the  two,  simply 
by  following"  the  leads  which  those  combinations 
themselves  will  give,  we  shall  in  a  few  years,  very 
likely,  discover  one  variation  which  combines  the 
productiveness  of  one  strain  of  heredity  with  the 
deliciousness  of  another. 

Or,  perhaps,  we  have  a  plant  which  bears  us 
berries  of  wonderful  flavor,  but  too  small  to  be 
marketable. 

Let  us  find  a  plant  with  large,  beautiful  ber- 
ries, even  though  they  be  insipid,  and  see  if,  be- 
tween the  two,  by  matching  heredities,  there  is 
not  to  be  found  some  new  berry  which  is  luscious, 
large,  and  beautiful. 

Or,  supposing  that  in  our  own  particular  soil 
there  are  varieties  we  should  hke  to  grow  which 
fail  to  prosper,  while  other  less  desirable  varieties 
thrive. 

Our  problem,  then,  is  but  the  combination 
of  heredities  to  bring  the  desirability  of  one 
with  the  hardiness  of  another  into  a  single 
new  plant  which,  as  it  were,  we  make  to 
order. 


198  LUTHER   BURBANK 

Or,  if  there  is  a  variety  which  will  not  with° 
stand  the  rigor  of  our  winters,  perhaps  it  can  be 
combined  with  a  poorer  variety  which  has  been 
educated  to  them. 

Or,  on  the  other  hand,  if  there  is  a  plant  which 
withers  in  the  heat  of  our  summers,  perhaps  some 
combination  can  be  effected  with  an  already  ex- 
isting brother  or  cousin,  which,  throughout  the 
generations,  has  conquered  the  obstacle  of  heat. 

And  so  on  throughout  the  whole  world-wide 
range  of  environment. 

We  shall  find  plants  which  have  grown  accus- 
tomed to  the  wet,  and  plants  which  are  hardened 
to  the  dry;  plan**  which  thrive  in  heat  and  plants 
which  thrive  in  cold ;  plants  which  like  sandy  soil, 
and  plants  which  can  do  well  even  in  clay;  plants 
which  have  become  ujsed  to  the  glare  of  the  sun, 
and  those  which  live  t^tiring  lives  in  the  deepest 
recesses  of  the  shade;  plants  which  bear  flowers 
large  and  small,  early  and  late,  of  short  seasons 
and  of  long,  fragrant  and  unscented,  simple  and 
complex.  We  shall  find  fruit  flavors  which  are 
sour,  sweet,  acid,  bitter;  fruit  skins  which  are 
smooth,  fuzzy;  fruits  themselves  that  are  large, 
small,  even  irregular,  coarse,  delicate;  we  shall 
find  those  which  will  stand  shipment  across  a 
continent  and  those  which  spoil  as  soon  as  they 
are  picked. 


DEVELOPING    CHARACTERS     199 

We  shall  find  a  range  of  differences  in  wild 
plants,  as  great  as  the  range  of  environments 
in  which  they  have  grown. 

And  we  shall  find  a  range  of  differences  in 
cultivated  plants  as  great  as  the  range  of  differ- 
ences in  races  and  nations  and  individuals  who 
have  grown  them. 

I  saw  an  interesting  illustration  on  the  rela- 
tion between  heredity  and  environment  at  the  cir- 
cus one  day. 

There,  in  a  wire  cage,  was  a  tiny  dog  together 
with  a  lot  of  monkeys. 

While  I  was  watching,  a  trainer  appeared  and 
snapped  his  whip. 

The  monkeys  quit  their  play  with  the  dog, 
ran  around  in  a  circle,  and  climbed  up  the  wire 
of  the  circular  cage. 

The  little  dog  followed  them,  but  could  not 
climb.  He  would  start  up  and  drop  back,  start 
up  again  and  drop  back  again. 

Then  he  would  look  down  at  his  feet,  and  if 
a  dog  ever  showed  surprise,  that  dog  did.  He 
seemed  to  be  wondering  why  he  could  not  climb 
as  monkeys  do. 

The  environment  was  there,  but  the  heredity 
was  different. 

We  see  the  same  thing  in  plant  life.  The 
sweet    peas    with    their    tendrils    and   the    nas- 


SAMPLE  OF  AN  IMPROVED 
GLADIOLUS 

One  of  the  thousands  of  variations 
my  own  work  with  the  gladiolus  has 
brought  forth  new  colors  and  new 
combinations  of  color.  The  short  stalk 
which  makes  staking  unnecessary  was 
developed  on  my  grounds  nearly  forty 
years  ago.  The  thick  petals  and  last- 
ing qualities  of  the  flower  originated 
here.  The  double  gladiolus  and  the 
gladiolus  which  blooms  all  around  the 
stalk  like  a  hyacinth,  first  appeared 
here. 


DEVELOPING   CHARACTERS    201 

turtiums  with  their  leaves  can  climb  like  the 
monkeys,  while  other  plants  can  not  be  forced 
to  climb  because  there  is  no  climbing  heredity 
within  them. 

You  may  try  to  make  corn  climb  a  hop  pole, 
or  to  make  hops  grow  straight  in  the  air  without 
a  pole  or  string.  But  in  a  lifetime  you  cannot 
succeed. 

It  is  heredity,  heredity,  heredity.  Environ- 
ment, unless  oft-repeated,  only  serves  to  bring 
heredity  out. 

The  climbing  monkeys  and  the  disappointed 
dog  show  us  an  important  truth  in  our  work. 

If  we  want  to  take  advantage  of  a  climb- 
ing tendency  in  a  plant  let  us  bj^  all  means 
find  a  plant  in  whose  heredity  that  climbing 
tendency  is  a  part.  Let  us  not  try  to  teach 
monkeys  to  bark,  or  dogs  to  swing  from  th 
limbs  of  trees  by  their  tails;  let  us  not  try 
to  make  corn  climb  the  hop  pole,  or  hops  be- 
come shade  trees. 

Maybe  these  things  could  be  done.  In  fact, 
with  unlimited  time,  there  is  no  question  that  they 
could.  But  with  plenty  of  plants  about  us  with 
ready-made  heredities  of  which  we  can  avail  our- 
selves in  a  single  season,  it  would  be  folly  to  try 
to  accomplish  the  same  result  in  a  harder  way, 
well  knowing  that  only  the  thousandth  or  mil- 


202  LUTHER   BURBANK 

lionth  generation  ahead  of  us  could  see  the  re- 
sults of  our  work. 

In  our  search  for  heredities  we  shall  find  many 
plants  which  are  scarcely  worth  working  with — 
plants  whose  environments  have  not  led  into 
heredities  which  are  desirable  for  our  ends. 

But  at  the  same  time  we  shall  find  thousands 
of  plants  in  the  least  expected  places — ^which,  at 
first,  seem  impossible  of  use — which  with  a  little 
encouragement  yield  us  rare  heredities  for  our 
work. 

When  the  masons,  carpenters,  and  decorators 
have  finished  the  architect's  house,  and  the  keys 
are  turned  over  to  the  new  owner — then,  and 
from  that  moment,  the  structure  begins  to  de- 
preciate until  it  crumbles  in  decay.  The  furni- 
ture movers  dent  the  stair  rails,  the  children 
scratch  the  doors,  dust  begins  to  darken  and  de- 
stroy the  luster  of  polished  surfaces;  and  the 
sun  and  night,  and  the  frosts  and  the  thaws,  rain 
and  the  heat,  slowly  and  irresistibly  carry  the 
structure  on  its  downward  grade. 

But  when  the  architect  of  plants  has  com- 
bined old  traits  into  the  production  of  his  ideal, 
he  has  fashioned  something  which,  if  his  work  is 
well  done,  the  suns,  and  rains,  and  frosts,  and 
winds  will  not  depreciate;  he  has  produced  a  liv- 
ing thing  which,  in  spite  of  discouragements,  and 


DEVELOPING    CHARACTERS    203 

neglect,  and  abuse,  will  keep  on,  and  on,  and  on 
— improving  as  it  goes. 

How  few,  indeed,  are  the  materials  which  the 
architect  of  buildings  has  at  his  command  when 
compared  with  the  range  of  living  traits  which 
the  architect  of  plants  may  call  into  play! 


Our  search,  then,  is  a  search  for 
stored-up  heredities — a  search  foi^ 
living  traits. 


SHORT  CUTS  INTO  THE  CEN- 
TURIES TO  COME 

Better  Plants  Secured  By  Selective 
Evolution 

**T  ^  TITH   the   bees  buzzing  about  in  the 

\  \  thousands  of  blossoms  on  your  experi- 
ment farm,"  said  a  visitor,  "I  should 
think  that  the  plants  would  get  all  mixed  up;  I 
should  think  that  the  daisies  would  be  crossed 
with  carnations,  and  the  carnations  with  balloon 
flowers,  and  the  balloon  flowers  with  poppies, 
and  the  poppies  with  cactus." 

If  we  were  to  watch  a  bee  at  work,  we  should 
quickly  discover  one  reason  why  this  does  not 
happen — one  reason,  at  least,  why  cherries, 
prunes,  roses,  and  geraniums  have  not  long  ago 
been  reduced  to  a  scrambled  mess. 

Our  observation  of  the  bee  would  show  that,  in 
going  from  flower  to  flower,  it  goes  usually  to 
flowers  of  a  kind. 

We  should  see  that,  if  it  starts  in  the  morning 
with  clover,  it  visits  no  other  blossom  during  the 

205 


206  LUTHER   BURBANK 

day  but  clover  blossoms.  Or  if  it  begins  on  an 
orange  tree,  it  passes  the  cherries,  the  peaches, 
the  apples  and  anything  else  which  may  be  in 
bloom,  but  will  go  miles  to  find  orange  trees;  or 
if  it  starts  on  onions,  then  the  geraniums  and  the 
carnations  and  the  poppies  have  no  attraction 
for  it. 

Which,  by  the  way,  is  the  reason  that  the  bees 
produce,  for  themselves  and  for  us,  clover  honey, 
and  orange  honey,  and  onion  honey,  each  with  a 
distinct  flavor  of  its  own. 

But  there  are  other  reasons  why  the  flowers  do 
not  get  mixed  up. 

One  is  that  while  some  flowers  advertise  to 
the  bees,  others  advertise  only  to  the  hum- 
ming birds  —  and  bees  cannot  get  to  the  honey 
in  the  bird  flowers  and  bee  flowers  do  not  in- 
terest the  birds;  some  flowers  open  in  the 
early  morning,  and  some  toward  noon;  some 
in  the  night;  some  bloom  in  April,  and  some 
in  July. 

There  are  structural  as  well  as  other  dlfl*er- 
ences  between  the  various  families  of  plants 
which  make  cross-pollination  impossible;  and  so 
on  through  a  wide  range  of  reasons  why  certain 
plants  are  not  readily  mated  with  others — which 
will  lead  us,  in  a  later  chapter,  into  the  interest- 
ing study  of  plant  afiinities. 


SELECTIVE   EVOLUTION       207 

The  bees  help  us  to  make  new  daisy  colors  be- 
cause, through  heredity,  the  daisies  of  our  first 
planting  gave  daisy  nectar,  though  their  colors 
were  white  and  orange.  And  in  a  few  cases 
which  we  might  try,  we  could  safely  intrust  the 
work  of  pollination  to  the  bees,  or  birds,  or  other 
messengers  with  whom  the  plants  have  built  up 
partnerships. 

But  in  the  most  important  we  should  find  that 
the  pollination  would  have  to  be  done  only  by 
hand. 

If,  for  example,  we  desired  to  effect  a  com- 
bination between  two  flowers,  one  of  which 
blooms  in  the  spring  and  the  other  in  midsum- 
mer, the  bees  could  be  of  no  service.  We  should 
have  to  take  the  pollen  of  the  early  blooming 
flower  and  carefully  save  it  until  it  could  be  ap- 
plied to  the  other. 

If  we  desired  to  effect  a  combination  between 
a  bird  flower  and  a  bee  flower,  even  if  in  bloom 
at  the  same  time,  we  should  find  it  necessary  to 
attend  to  the  pollination  ourselves. 

If  we  had  it  in  mind  to  effect  a  cross  between 
a  particularly  large,  insipid  plum  and  a  small, 
highly  flavored  plum  of  another  species,  or  if  we 
desired  to  effect  a  cross  between  any  two  selected 
parents,  we  should  find  it  necessaiy  to  do  our  own 
work  of  pollination. 


AT    THE    DOOR 

Even  the  flowers  that  grow  beside 
my  home  are  always  undergoing  obser- 
vation and  being  tested  as  to  their 
capacity  for  further  education.  So  pic- 
tures taken  in  different  seasons  do  not 
have  the  same  appearance.  At  the 
moment,  this  beautiful  rose  has  the 
place  of  honor  as  the  decoration  selected 
for  the  porch.  This  rose  is  the  Corona 
— a  primroselike  seedling  of  Crimson 
Rambler, 


SELECTIVE    EVOLUTION       209 

It  would  seem  that  much  of  the  ingenuity 
evident  in  nature  is  directed  toward  a  twofold 
end: 

First,  toward  producing  an  endless  combina- 
tion of  heredities  in  plants  of  the  same  kind — 
which,  to  give  them  a  name,  we  may  call  crosses. 

And  second,  to  prevent  the  combination  of 
things  out  of  kind — which,  to  distinguish  them 
from  crosses,  we  may  call  hybrids. 

The  first  aim  insures  infinite  variation — the 
mixing  up  of  parallel  strains  of  heredity  in  such 
a  way  that  no  two  living  things  are  exactly  alike, 
and  that,  in  each  new  balance  of  tendencies  pro- 
duced, there  is  the  possibility  of  an  improvement. 

The  second  explains  why,  though  all  roses  dif- 
fer from  each  other,  yet  all  are  roses — ^why, 
though  every  living  thing  has  its  own  individual- 
ity, its  own  personality,  each  bears  the  unmistak- 
able characteristics  of  its  kind. 

"Here  and  there  through  nature,  nevertheless, 
are  hybrids.  Ai'e  these  accidents — the  result  of 
some  carelessness,  some  lapse?" 

Everything  that  is,  is  a  definite  j)art  of  the 
Scheme  of  Things. 

We  see  crossing  between  kinds  and  realize  its 
tendency  and  purpose,  and  see  its  value  in  the 
Scheme,  because  it  is  going  on  about  us  always, 
everywhere — ^because  it  is  a  quick-moving  pro- 


210  LUTHER   BURBANK 

cess  which  we  can  observe  without  doubt  or 
difficulty. 

But  when,  on  the  other  hand^  we  see  the  pro- 
visions in  nature  against  crossing  out  of  kind, 
those  numberless  ingenious  devices  designed  to 
prevent  the  production  of  hybrids,  we  have  no 
right  to  conclude  that  hybrids  are  not  a  part  of 
the  Scheme  of  Things. 

They  are — else  there  would  be  no  hybrids. 

Crossing  between  plants  of  the  same  kind  is  a 
continuous  active  process  necessary  to  the  pro- 
duction of  better  and  better  individuals. 

Crossing  out  of  kind,  while  more  radical,  is  a 
process  which  has  just  as  definite  an  end  as  cross- 
ing within  kinds. 

Let  us  go  back  to  our  African  daisies. 

If  we  read  their  history  aright,  there  was, 
first,  an  orange  flower  which  grew  in  the  open 
veldt — a  flower  which  accommodated  itself  to  the 
peculiarities  of  the  soil  and  the  air  in  which  it 
grew,  and  to  its  plant,  insect,  and  animal  neigh- 
bors— so  that  it  became  a  thriving,  successful 
race,  each  generation  a  little  stronger — each  year 
seeing  it  increase  in  numbers  and  spread  in  ter- 
ritory. In  its  spread,  we  may  well  imagine  that 
the  winds,  or  the  animals,  carried  its  seed  oveit 
otherwise  impassable  barriers — just  as  human 
environment  carries  one  son  to  New  York  to 


SELECTIVE   EVOLUTION       211 

become  a  lawyer,  another  to  Pittsburgh  to  be- 
come a  steel  maker,  and  another  to  the  gold  fields 
of  Nevada. 

Thus  reaching  out,  always  into  new  environ- 
ments, some  branch  of  this  daisy  family  found 
itself  in  the  midst  of  a  clump  of  trees, — ^trees 
which  multiplied  and  grew  till  they  obscured  the 
sun  and  left  the  tiny  plants  in  the  obscurity  of 
dense  shade. 

As  the  trees  grew  (and  just  as  slowly,  quite 
likely),  the  daisies  at  their  feet  accommodated 
themselves  to  their  new  environment — they 
adapted  themselves  to  the  shade  and  moisture — 
they  had  less  competition,  perhaps,  from  other 
small  plants  and  so  became  less  sturdy — they 
changed  their  color  to  the  one  best  suited  to  at- 
tract available  messengers  of  reproduction. 

At  this  point  we  interrupted  the  evolution  of 
the  African  daisy  by  planting  the  white  and 
the  orange  together  and  securing,  in  the 
pink  one,  an  immediate  blend  of  their  divergent 
heredities. 

But  it  requires  no  stretch  of  the  imagination  to 
believe  that,  had  we  left  them  to  their  course,  the 
same  end  would  have  been  accomplished  a  cen- 
tury, or  a  thousand  centuries,  from  now ;  that  the 
same  migratory  tendency  which  took  the  white 
daisies   into   the   woods   would,   in   time,   have 


212  LUTHER   BURBANK 

brought  them  out  of  the  woods  and  into  the 
sunshine;  or  that  the  same  tendency  which  got 
one  division  of  the  family  into  the  woods 
would  eventually  have  taken  other  divisions 
to  the  same  woods;  and  that,  sooner  or  later, 
there  would  have  been  white  daisies  growing 
alongside  of  orange  daisies,  so  that,  through 
the  slow  processes  of  nature,  the  same  result 
which  we  produced  by  artificial  means  would 
have  been  achieved. 

And  so,  in  all  of  our  experiments  with  plants, 
we  shall  find  that  we  are  not  working  against 
evolution,  but  with  it;  that  we  are  merely  pro- 
viding it  with  short  cuts  into  the  centuries  to 
come — short  cuts  which  do  not  change  the  final 
result,  but  only  hasten  its  accomphshment. 

And  who  shall  say  that  we,  helping  our  plants 
to  do  in  1921  what  without  our  help  they  might 
not  be  able  to  do  before  3921 — who  shall  say  that 
we  are  not  elements  in  evolution  just  as  the 
bees,  and  the  birds,  and  the  butterflies,  and 
the  winds,  and  rains,  and  frosts  —  who  shall 
say  that  our  influence,  inestimably  greater  than 
any  other  influence  in  the  life  of  a  plant  —  is 
not  an  integral  part  of  progress  in  the  Scheme 
of  Things? 

In  hastening  evolution,  we  can,  and  do,  play  a 
more  important  part  even  than  that  of  bringing 


SELECTIVE    EVOLUTION       213 

about  crosses,  or  hybrids,  which  the  bees  or  the 
birds  would  never  make. 

The  greatest  service  which  we  render  toward 
the  advancement  of  plant  life  is  that  of  selection, 
endless,  skillful  selection. 

The  daisies  were  really,  after  all,  the  result, 
principally,  of  selection.  The  important  thing 
was  not  to  bring  a  mass  of  daisies  together  for  the 
bees  to  work  on;  the  important  thing  was  to  se- 
lect orange  daisies,  and  white  daisies,  with  the 
purpose  of  producing  other  colors.  Then,  with 
thousands  of  variations,  we  selected  again — this 
time  for  the  colors  we  desired,  and  destroyed  the 
rest. 

Afterward,  with  these  new  colors,  we  began  a 
still  further  course  of  selection,  selecting  the 
largest,  the  hardiest,  the  tallest;  and  no  matter 
how  long  we  might  continue  to  grow  these 
daisies,  we  should  keep  on  selecting,  selecting,  se- 
lecting— each  step  in  our  selection,  because  it  has 
the  human  mind  behind  it — because  it  is  actuated 
by  purpose  and  desire — each  step  in  this  selec- 
tion representing  an  advance,  which,  without 
our  help,  might  take  a  hundred  or  a  thousand 
years  to  bring  about. 

So,  in  working  out  any  ideal  In  plant  improve- 
ment, the  first  factor  and  the  last  one  is  selection. 
Selection  enters  into  the  ideal  itself,  it    enters 


THE    NEW   AMARYLLIS   AND 
ITS   PARENTS 

Having  effected  new  combinations 
between  species,  in  the  amaryllis,  a  com- 
bination was  made  between  genera.  In 
this  direct-color  photograph  print  the 
improved  amaryllis  and  its  tiny  parents 
are  shown  in  eccact  proportion.  The 
larger  one  is  ten  inches  across. 


SELECTIVE    EVOLUTION       215 

into  every  step  of  its  accomplisliment,  and  it 
enters  into  the  production  of  every  succeeding 
plant  which  represents  that  accomplishment. 

If  you  believe  that  nature  makes  no  mistakes, 
and  has  no  lapses,  how  can  you  account  for  the 
evident  unfitness  of  so  many  individual  plants 
to  survive — how  can  you  account  for  the  waste- 
fulness and  extravagance  which  is  apparent 
throughout  all  forms  of  plant  life? 

Leaving  nature  out  of  it  for  the  moment,  let 
us  look  at  the  work  which  I  have  been  doing  here 
for  fifty  years.  There  has  hardly  been  a  time 
during  tliis  period  when  I  have  had  less  than 
twenty-five  hundred  experiments  under  way,  and 
there  have  been  seasons  when  from  three  to  five 
thousand  were  in  process.  Estimating  that  on 
this  three-acre  home  tract,  considerably  more 
than  one  hundred  thousand  definite,  separate 
experiments  in  plant  life  have  been  conducted, 
in  all. 

Some  of  the  experiments  which  have  taken  the 
most  time  and  cost  the  most  money  have  pro- 
duced no  apparent  result;  and  some  of  the  re- 
sults which  seem  most  important  have  been 
achieved  in  the  simplest  way,  with  the  least  ex- 
penditure of  effort. 

Out  of  the  entire  total  of  experiments  tried, 
there  have  been  not  more  than  a  few  hundred 


216  LUTHER   BURBANK 

which,  so  far,  have  resulted  in  a  better  fruit,  or 
a  better  flower,  or  a  more  marketable  nut,  or  a 
more  useful  plant — that  is  enough  better  in  all 
respects  to  warrant  its  introduction. 

On  the  other  hand,  I  should  feel  repaid  for  all 
the  work  I  have  done  if  only  a  dozen  of  these 
experiments  had  turned  out  to  be  successes.  It 
is  in  the  very  nature  of  experimentation — we 
must  try  many  things  in  order  to  accomplish  a 
few. 

And  this  is  just  what  is  going  on  in  nature  all* 
the  time — excepting  that  where  we  might  get 
one  success  out  of  forty  failures,  there  might  be 
but  one  out  of  a  thousand  or  a  million  if  the 
plants  were  left  to  work  out  their  own  improve- 
ment unaided. 

Then,  after  all,  the  unsuccessful  experiments 
are  failures  only  in  a  comparative  sense. 

If  you  have  ever  watched  the  bridge  builders 
constructing  a  concrete  causeway,  you  must  have 
seen  the  false  construction  which  was  necessary 
— the  stout  wooden  structure  into  which  the 
plastic  material  was  poured — a  costly  structure 
in  itself  which  was  put  up  only  to  be  torn  down. 

We  cannot  call  this  wooden  structure  extrav- 
agance or  waste,  because  it  was  a  necessary  step 
in  the  completion  of  the  work.  And  so,  while, 
in  nature,  we  find  many  individuals  which  are 


SELECTIVE    EVOLUTION       217 

weak — many  steps  which  look  like  backward 
steps  instead  of  forward  ones — many  apparent 
oversights,  yet  my  own  work  has  shown  that  this 
is  true,  that  these  are  simply  elements  in  a  neces- 
sary scheme  of  false  construction,  without  which 
the  final  object  could  not  be  achieved. 

The  price  of  all  progress  is  experiment, 
and  successful  experiment  is  brought  about, 
always,  at  a  terrific  expense  of  individual 
failures. 

But  who  shall  say  that  progress,  any  progress, 
is  not  worth  all  its  costs? 

It  is  simply  by  eliminating  steps  and  provid- 
ing short  cuts,  and  bringing  the  human  mind 
with  its  ideals,  will,  judgment,  and  persistence 
into  the  environment  that  we  are  able  to  produce 
new  colors  in  a  few  months  when,  without  our 
influence,  nature  might  easily  have  taken  till 
4020. 

The  real  work  before  us,  then,  is  to  study 
nature's  processes — to  learn  to  read  the  history 
of  plants,  to  uncover  tendencies  and  understand 
their  trends — and  then  to  provide  short  cuts  so 
that  the  far  distant  improvement  may  be  made 
a  matter  of  months,  instead  of  centuries. 

These  short  cuts  and  their  application,  from 
this  point  on,  wiU  be  our  principal  study;  per- 
haps a  single  illustration  here,  more  comprehen- 


MORE  THAN  FIVE  HUNDRED 
KINDS    ON   ONE   TREE 

This  direct-color  photograph  print 
shows  one  of  my  cherry  trees  which 
has  produced  as  high  as  five  hundred 
kinds  of  cherries  at  the  same  time — this 
for  the  purpose  of  convenient  compari- 
son and  intelligent  selection. 


SELECTIVE   EVOLUTION       219 

sive  than  that  of  the  daisy,  will  serve  to  give  a 
clearer  idea  of  their  kind : 

Let  us  take,  then,  as  a  specimen,  the  methods 
employed  in  the  production  of  a  new  cherry. 

First,  as  with  the  daisy,  there  must  be  an  ideal 
— some  particular  kind  of  cherry  of  which  we 
have  made  a  mental  blue  print.  Let  us  say 
that  our  blue  print  calls  for  a  large,  sweet 
cherry,  which  will  ripen  early  and  bear  long 
— taking  into  account  that  appearance  is  a  great 
factor. 

The  first  step  would  be  to  gather  in  our  ele- 
ments; to  pick  out  a  large,  beautiful  cherry 
which,  after  the  manner  of  many  large,  beauti- 
ful fruits,  may  be  more  or  less  insipid  in 
taste;  then  to  select  another  cherry,  size  and 
appearance  inconsequential,  which  has  the  de- 
lightful flavor  our  plans  and  specifications 
call  for. 

Let  us  take  not  one  of  each  of  these  types,  but 
a  number  of  them,  and  then  when  they  have 
bloomed,  let  us,  by  hand,  cross  them  back  and 
forth,  making  in  all,  we  will  say,  five  hundred 
crosses;  each  tied  with  a  certain  color  of  string 
for  the  purpose  of  later  identification. 

The  petals  of  the  blossoms  which  we  have 
crossed  will  fall  away;  long  stems  bearing  green 
cherries    will    begin  to   take    their   place;    and 


220  LUTHER   BURBANK 

finally  the  twigs  which  w^e  have  marked  with 
strings  will  reward  us  with  their  ripened  fruit. 

There  is  an  interesting  legend  of  the  French 
girls  who  used  to  take  apple  boughs  in  blossom 
and  shake  the  pollen  over  the  apple  flowers  of 
another  tree,  a  legend  of  the  wonderful  variation 
in  the  apples  which  they  secured. 

And  here  and  there  in  our  work  we  shall  see 
a  few  exceptions  to  the  general  rule,  which 
seem  to  prove  that  the  French  legend  perhaps 
w^as  founded  on  fact. 

These  exceptions,  which  will  form  the  basis  of 
an  interesting  series  of  experiments  for  us  later, 
need  have  no  bearing  on  our  present  cherry 
work. 

For,  as  a  matter  of  practical  fact,  we  shall 
find  no  outward  evidence  of  our  w^ork.  The 
meat  of  the  five  hundred  cherries  which  we  have 
crossed,  we  can  safely  assume,  will  taste  the 
same,  and  be  the  same,  as  though  we  had  let  the 
bees  attend  to  pollination;  the  cherries  that  re- 
sult will  not  be  different  in  flavor  or  appearance 
from  the  other  cherries  on  the  tree. 

But  inside  the  stony  seed  of  each  of  those 
cherries  we  shall  find  an  indelible  living  record 
of  what  has  been  done. 

So,  disregarding  the  fruit,  we  save  our  five 
hundred  cherry  seeds  and  plant  them  in  a  shal- 


SELECTIVE    EVOLUTION       221 

low  box  until  they  have  sprouted  and  then  trans- 
plant they  till  they  attain  a  six  or  eight  inch 
growth. 

So  far,  let  us  see  how  we  have  shortened 
nature's  processes. 

In  the  first  place,  we  have  brought  together  a 
large,  insipid  cherry  and  a  homely,  small,  sweet 
one,  brought  them  from  points,  perhaps,  two 
thousand  miles  apart. 

In  the  natural  course,  those  two  cherries  would 
have  spread;  they  would,  eventually,  have  come 
together,  possibly;  but  we  have  brought  them 
together  without  delay.  Perhaps,  in  this,  we 
have  saved  a  thousand  years. 

In  bringing  our  two  kinds  of  cherries  to- 
gether we  have  brought  not  only  one  of  each 
type,  but  dozens,  or  hundreds,  each  selected  for 
its  size,  on  appearance,  or  some  probable  quality 
which  it  contains  within.  In  this  simple  selec- 
tion of  individuals  we  may  have  saved  other 
thousands  of  years. 

With  unerring  accuracy  we  have  seen  that  the 
pollen  of  the  two  kinds  has  been  interchanged, 
so  that  the  five  hundred  or  so  resulting  seeds  will 
represent  the  two  heredities  we  wish  to  combine 
— and  only  these. 

Who  can  estimate  how  long  it  might  have 
taken  the  bees  and  the  winds,  working  even  in 


TWO   SEEDLING   TYPES 
OF   CHERRIES 

They  are  shown  here  together^  so 
that  their  similarities  and  differences 
may  be  seen  at  a  glance.  Yellow,  pink, 
red,  or  purple  cherries  often  come  from 
the  seeds  of  black  ones,  and  these  and 
other  colors  may  come  from  seeds  of 
any  cultivated  variety. 


SELECTIVE    EVOLUTION       223 

nei^iboring  trees,  to  effect  specific  crosses  witli 
the  certainty  which  we  have  assured? 

Now,  with  new  heredities  bundled  up  in  our 
five  hundred  cherry  stones,  we  plant  them  under 
every  favoring  condition  in  our  shallow  box,  and 
unless  mishap  or  accident  intervenes,  we  get  new 
cheriy  trees  from  all,  or,  at  worst,  lose  but  a 
few. 

And  now,  with  our  sprouted  cherry  seedhngs 
six  inches  or  eight  in  height,  with  no  man  knows 
how  many  thousand  years  of  nature's  processes 
cut  out,  we  come  to  one  of  the  most  important 
short  cuts  of  all — quick  fruiting,  so  that  there 
may  be  quick  selection. 

Grafting  is  no  new  practice. 

Virgil  wrote  verses  about  it: 

But  thou  shalt  lend 
Grafts  of  rude  arbute  unto  the  walnut  tree, 
Shalt  bid  the  unfruitful  plane  sound  apples  bear, 
Chestnuts  the  beech,  the  ash  blow  white  with  the  pear, 
And,  under  the  elm,  the  sow  on  acorns  fare. 

Pliny,  evidently  a  much  more  practical  man, 
within  the  same  century,  describes  a  cleft  graft 
and  bespeaks  the  following  precautions :  that  the 
stock  must  be  that  of  a  tree  suitable  for  the  pur- 
pose ;  that  the  cleft  must  be  taken  from  one  that 
is  proper  for  grafting;  that  the  incision  must  not 


224  LUTHER   BURBANK 

be  made  in  a  knot;  that  the  graft  must  be  from 
a  tree  which  is  a  good  bearer,  and  from  a  young 
shoot;  that  the  graft  must  not  be  sharpened  or 
pointed  while  the  wind  is  blowing ;  that  the  graft 
should  be  inserted  during  the  moon's  increase; 
with  the  final  wai'ning,  "A  graft  should  not  be 
used  that  is  too  full  of  saj),  no,  by  Hercules!  no 
more  than  one  that  is  dry  and  parched.'* 

"Graft  close  down  to  the  trunk,"  the  later 
theory  of  grafting  has  been,  "there  the  sap  pres- 
sure is  highest  and  the  grafted  cion  has  the  best 
opportunity  to  live. 

"Graft  away  out  at  the  tip  ends  of  the  tree 
and  you  will  save  from  two  to  seven  years  of 
time. 

"Grafting  close  to  the  trunk  gives  the  cion  a 
better  opportunity." 

Give  anything  a  good  opportunity  and  it  takes 
its  own  time  to  mature. 

Take  away  that  opportunity,  and  responding 
to  the  inborn  tendency  of  every  living  things  to 
reproduce  itself,  it  will  hasten  the  process  with- 
out waiting  to  accumulate  strength.  Therefore, 
if  we  graft  away  out  at  the  tip  ends  of  the  tree, 
while  we  make  it  harder  for  the  cions  to  exist, 
yet,  in  consequence,  they  will  bear  much  sooner. 

Furthermore,  if  we  graft  close  to  the  trunk, 
we  can,  at  best,  attach  but  a  few  cions. 


SELECTIVE   EVOLUTION       225 

But  if  we  graft  out  at  the  tip  ends,  we  can  put 
five  hundred  or  more  cions  on  a  single  tree. 

By  grafting  the  smaller  branches,  fruit  pro- 
duction is  greatly  hastened,  cutting  from  two  to 
seven  years  out  of  the  long  wait  for  the  fruit 
which  is  to  tell  the  story  of  the  heredities  which 
are  confined  within  the  seed. 

It  is  possible,  at  this  point,  to  give  but  the 
barest  glimpse  of  the  results  which  this  mode 
of  grafting  made  possible.  Under  the  proper 
heading,  the  details  will  be  fully  explained,  to- 
gether with  a  summary  of  the  results  of  hun- 
dreds of  thousands  of  grafts,  showing  that,  while 
the  average  time  of  fruiting  has  been  brought 
down  to  less  than  two  seasons,  in  some  excep- 
tional cases  fruit  has  been  secured  for  testing 
the  same  season  that  the  graft  was  made. 

Here,  too,  it  is  not  possible  to  convey  more 
than  a  general  idea  of  the  plans  which,  in  every 
operation,  are  aimed  toward  the  end  of  produc- 
ing the  quickest  possible  test.  Whether  it  be  the 
quince  seedlings  bearing  fruit  the  first  year  or 
yearling  chestnut  trees  loaded  down  with  nuts; 
or  ten  year  old  walnut  trees,  the  size  of  their 
century  old  cousins  —  all  through  this  work 
the  plan  and  the  method  is  to  save  time  for  the 
individual  plant  as  well  as  to  provide  short  cuts 
for  the  process  of  evolution. 

Vol.  1— Bur.  H 


SOME    OF    THE    400    COME 
TO   JUDGMENT 

This  picture  {reduced  about  one- 
half)  shows  ten  of  the  hundred  or  more 
varieties  of  cherries  picked  on  the  same 
day  from  the  same  tree,  and  laid  out 
for  examination  and  selection.  As  new 
combinations  are  effected  each  season 
through  cross-pollinization,  there  are 
always  vmique  varieties  to  be  found  on 
the  tree  each  June  time.  New  varieties, 
may,  of  course,  be  perpetuated  by 
grafting. 


SELECTIVE    EVOLUTION       227 

To  go  back  to  our  cherry  seedling,  now  six 
inches  above  the  ground,  if  we  were  to  depend 
on  nature's  processes,  by  careful  planting  and 
cultivation  we  might,  with  care,  produce  cher- 
ries in  seven  years,  but,  by  the  above  method,  we 
shall  have  our  cherry  crosses  in  1920  instead  of 
jjj  1927— five  hundred  of  them  all  on  a  single 
tree,  so  that  they  can  be  plucked  and  laid  out, 
first,  for  a  visual  selection,  to  select  the  ones 
which  conform  to  our  ideas  of  color,  size,  and 
beauty;  and,  second,  for  selection  through  taste 
—to  find  the  one,  or  the  two,  or  the  dozen  among 
them  which  come  the  nearest  the  ideal  of  oui 
original  mental  blue  print. 

Perhaps  of  five  hundred  cherries  spread  be- 
fore us  none  may  fit  the  blue  print;  or  perhaps 
one  or  two  approximating  it  may  show  signs 
of    further    improvements   which   ought   to   be 

made. 

Ehminate  the  rest,  and  start  afresh  with  these 
two— begin  at  the  very  beginning  with  them 
again— grow  more  seedlings,  produce  quick  fruit 
through  grafting,  and  select  again. 

Every  Httle  while  I  have,  as  the  neighbors 
choose  to  call  it,  a  $10,000  bonfire. 

In  such  a  bonfire  there  might  be  499  cherry 
plants  out  of  the  five  hundred  which  we  have 
just  made;  there  would  be  19,999  rose  bushes 


228  LUTHER   BURBANK 

which  had  been  brought  to  blooming  in  order  to 
find  the  twenty  thousandth  which  was  not  burned 
— or  perhaps  twent}''  thousand  rose  bushes,  the 
one  sought  for  not  having  been  worth  the  saving; 
there  would  be  1,500  gladiolus  bulbs  A\dth  market 
value  of  half  a  dollar  apiece,  put  in  the  fire  after 
the  one,  or  the  two,  or  the  dozen  best  among 
them  had  been  selected;  there  would  be  twenty 
thousand  cactus  seedlings,  representing  three  to 
five  years  of  care  and  watchfulness,  but  useless' 
now,  their  duty  done.  A  ten  thousand  dollar 
bonfire,  indeed,  without  exaggeration. 

The  builder  of  bridges  can  sell  the  lumber  used 
in  his  false  construction  for  seconds;  and  so  I 
could  profitably  dispose  of  the  elements  of  false 
construction  in  my  work — those  millions  of  seeds 
and  bulbs  and  cuttings  which  represent  second 
bests  or  poorer ;  but  every  step  in  the  process  ex- 
cepting those  concerning  the  final  result  is  ob- 
literated with  a  ruthless  hand. 

It  is  better  to  run  the  risk  of  losing  a  perfected 
product,  through  the  destruction  of  the  elements 
which  went  into  it,  than  to  issue  forth  to  the 
world  a  lot  of  second  bests  which  have  within 
them  the  power  of  self-perpetuation  and  multi- 
plication, and  which,  if  we  do  not  destroy  them 
now,  will  clutter  the  earth  with  inferiority  or 
mediocrity. 


SELECTIVE    EVOLUTION       229 

So  we  see  that,  while  nature  might  eventually 
produce  the  things  which  we  hasten  her  to  pro- 
duce, yet  the  improvements  would  find  them- 
selves in  competition  with  the  failures  which 
they  cost,  the  failures  outnmnbering  the  improve- 
ments, perhaps,  a  million  to  one.  We  see  that 
we  not  only  shorten  the  process,  not  only  achieve 
a  result  out  of  every  thousand  failures  instead  of 
every  ten  million,  but  we  give  our  product  the 
advantage  of  a  better  chance  to  live — we  remove 
from  it  the  necessity  of  fighting  its  inferiors 
for  the  food,  and  air,  and  sunlight  which  give 
it  life. 

This,  then,  is  the  story  of  the  making  of  a  new 
cherry  to  fit  an  ideal: 

First,  selection  of  the  elements;  second,  com- 
bining these  elements;  third,  bringing  these  com- 
binations to  quick  bearing;  fourth,  selecting  one 
out  of  the  five  hundred;  and  then,  selection,  on 
and  on. 

These,  after  all,  are  but  details  in  the  process 
— ^minor  details,  in  fact. 

The  big  element,  overtowering  them  in  im- 
portance, is  selection. 

First,  the  selection  of  an  ideal,  then  the  selec- 
tion of  the  elements  which  are  to  be  blended  to 
achieve  it,  then  the  selection  of  the  resultant 
plant,  and  after  that  the  selection  of  better  and 


230  LUTHER   BURBANK 

better  individual  plants  to  bear  the  fruit  which 
reproduces  the  original  selected  ideal. 

Everything  we  do,  then,  is  simply  done  to 
facilitate  selection. 

We  produce  new  plants  in  enormous  quanti- 
ties, in  order  that  there  may  be  many  from  wliich 
to  select;  and  having  selected,  we  destroy  nine 
hundred  and  ninety-nine  one  thousandths  of  our 
w^ork. 

We  strive  all  the  while  to  produce  quick  re- 
sults— to  eliminate  the  long  waits  and  to  shorten 
those  that  we  cannot  wholly  eliminate — simply 
so  that  our  selection  may  be  truly  comparative 
— as  that  of  five  hundred  fruits  tasted  in  a  single 
afternoon,  and  so  that  lingering  expectancy  may 
not  prejudice  our  judgment,  or  the  result. 

It  took  two  thousand  5^ears  or  more  to  bring 
about  the  juicy  American  pear  by  unconscious 
selection — and  two  thousand  years  for  the  Ori- 
entals to  produce  the  pear  they  liked. 

Yet,  as  plant  improvement  goes,  the  pear  was 
quick  to  respond  to  its  environment;  other  fruit 
improvements  wrought  through  unconscious  se- 
lection have  taken  ten  times  as  long. 

On  the  other  hand  we  see  the  cherry  tree,  bear- 
ing more  than  five  hundred  different  kinds  of 
cherries  at  the  same  time,  cherries  produced  to 
compare  with  a  mental  blue  print  less  than  three 


SELECTIVE    EVOLUTION       231 

years  old  —  among  which  one,  at  least,  will  be 
found,  which  will  lead  to  achievement  of  the 
ideal. 

And,  similarly,  in  every  department  of  plant 
life,  whether  it  be  in  farm  plants,  garden  plants, 
forest  plants,  lawn  plants,  or  orchard  plants,  or 
whether  it  be  in  plants  which  we  grow  for  their 
chemical  content,  or  for  their  fibers,  or  what — 
we  shall  find  that  it  is  possible  to  devise  short 
cuts  into  the  centuries  to  come,  and  through  com- 
bining stored-up  heredity  with  new  environment, 
to  hasten  evolution  to  produce  for  us  entirely 
new  plants  to  meet  our  own  specific  desires. 


Who  shall  say  that  progress  is  not 
worth  all  its  costs? 


HOW   FAR  CAN   PLANT 
IMPROVEMENT   GO? 

The  Crossroads — Where  Fact  and  Theory 
Seem  to  Part 

WHEN  I  first  began  this  work  I  was 
taught  that  a  combination  between  two 
varieties  of  the  same  species  was  possible 
— ^that  I  might  cross  one  plum  with  another 
plum,  for  example,  to  get  a  new  variety — but 
that  the  species  marked  the  definite  boundary 
within  which  I  must  work.  The  science  of  that 
day  was  firm  in  its  belief  that  a  seed-bearing, 
fixed,  self -reproductive  cross  between  plants  of 
different  species  was  beyond  the  pale  of  possi- 
bility. 

A  little  later  on,  when  I  succeeded  in  com- 
bining the  plum  with  the  apricot,  and  produced, 
thereby,  a  new  fruit  whose  parents  were  of 
undeniably  different  species,  the  law,  or  rule,  was 
moved  up  a  peg;  and  I  was  told  that  while  it 
might  be  possible  to  effect  combinations  between 
different  species,  yet  that  nmst  be  the  limit  of 

233 


234  LUTHER   BURBANK 

accomplishment;  that  combinations  between  the 
next  higher  divisions,  genera,  were  beyond  the 
power  of  man  to  effect. 

Then  when  I  was  able,  after  a  time,  to  take 
parents  of  two  different  genera,  like  the  crinum 
and  the  amaryllis,  and  a  score  of  others 
which  might  be  mentioned,  and  to  effect  suc- 
cessful seed-producing  combinations  between 
them,  I  began  to  hear  less  and  less  about  laws 
and  rules. 

The  fact  is  that  the  laws  and  the  rules  are  too 
often  man-made. 

Nature,  herself,  has  no  hard  and  fast  mode  of 
procedure.  She  limits  herself  to  no  grooves.  She 
travels  to  no  set  schedule. 

She  proceeds  an  inch  at  a  time — or  a  league — ■ 
moving  always,  but  apparently  into  an  un- 
mapped, uncharted,  trackless  future. 

I  like  to  think  of  nature's  processes  as  end- 
lessly flowing  streams  in  which  varied  strains  of 
heredity  are  ever  pouring  do^vn  through  river 
beds  of  environment;  streams  which,  for  ages, 
may  keep  to  their  channels,  but  each  of  which 
is  apt,  at  any  time,  to  jump  its  banks  and  find  a 
different  outlet. 

Just  about  the  time  we  decide  that  one  of 
these  streams  is  fixed  and  permanent,  there  is 
likely  to  come  along  a  freshet  of  old  heredity,  or 


FACT   AND    THEORY  235 

a  shift  in  new  environment ;  after  which  we  must 
rebuild  our  bridges  and  revise  all  our  maps. 

Since  the  subject  of  classification  is  an  impor- 
tant one;  and  since  I  have  at  times  upset  some 
man-made  laws  or  theories  it  may  be  well,  at  this 
point,  to  take  a  bird's-eye  glimpse  over  the  maps 
and  charts  which  have  been  worked  out. 

With  a  subject  in  which  the  bulk  of  truth  is 
masked  in  the  obscurity  of  past  ages,  and  with 
many  men  of  many  minds  attacking  it  from 
many  viewpoints,  it  is  only  to  be  expected  that 
there  should  be  differences  of  opinion. 

But,  for  the  sake  of  making  the  explanation 
clear,  we  may  for  the  moment  overlook  minor 
divergences  and  view  only  the  main  backbone 
plan  which  meets  with  the  broadest  acceptance. 
To  begin  at  the  beginning,  we  see  first,  spread 
before  us,  three  kingdoms  whose  boundary  lines 
are  well  surveyed  and  whose  extent  is  all-inclu- 
sive. These  are  the  mineral,  the  vegetable,  and 
the  animal  kingdoms. 

Our  interest  lies  now  in  the  vegetable  king- 
dom, which  bridges  the  space  between  the  other 
two.  This  kingdom  first  divides  itself  into  six 
(perhaps  seven)  branches,  or  subkingdoms, 
called  phyla. 

The  lowest  of  these  subkingdoms  includes  only 
those  vegetables  of  the  simplest  type  which  re- 


236  LUTHER   BURBANK 

produce  by  splitting  themselves  into  two  or  more 
individuals.  In  this  subkingdom  live  the  death- 
dealing  bacteria,  which  bring  about  such  human 
diseases  as  tuberculosis  and  malaria,  or  such 
plant  diseases  as  black  rot;  and  our  helpful  bac- 
teria, too,  w^hich  are  everj'^where  helping  us  to 
digest  our  food,  and  without  whose  help  the 
higher  subkingdoms  of  plant  life  could  not  exist ; 
and  other  plants  of  the  same  grade. 

The  next  subkingdom,  higher  by  a  step,  in- 
cludes the  yeast  which  we  use  to  raise  our  bread, 
or  those  microscopic  vegetables  which  turn  hop 
juice  into  beer,  apple  juice  into  cider;  and  others. 
Those  who  prefer  to  chart  seven  subkingdoms 
instead  of  six,  divide  this  branch  into  two,  making 
the  slime  molds  a  separate  phylum. 

The  next  subkingdom,  ascending  the  scale,  in- 
cludes, among  others,  the  mosses  and  liverworts. 

From  these  it  is  but  a  step  to  the  next  sub- 
kingdom,  which  includes  the  ferns — the  highest 
type  of  flowerless  plants,  and  the  first,  in  the 
ascending  scale,  to  exhibit  a  comjDlete  develop- 
ment of  root,  stem,  and  leaf. 

The  final  subkingdom,  and  the  one  into  which 
our  work  principally  takes  us,  embraces  those 
plants  which  produce  seeds. 

Taking,  then,  this  latter,  the  highest  sub- 
kingdom,  we  find  that  it  separates  into  two  broad 


FACT   AND    THEORY  237 

divisions,  called  classes,  one  of  which  is  distin- 
guished by  bearing  its  seeds  in  inclosed  packages 
called  ovaries;  the  other  bearing  seeds  which  are 
exposed  or  naked.  The  first  of  these  classes 
includes  the  vast  majority  of  seed-bearing 
plants;  the  other  including  principally  those 
trees,  like  the  pine  and  the  cypress,  which  bear 
their  seeds  in  open  cones. 

Next  on  our  chart  we  shall  find  that  the  class 
is  subdivided  into  orders.  The  order  represents 
a  collection  of  related  families.  As  an  example, 
the  order  Rosales  is  made  up  of  the  rose  family, 
the  bean  family,  the  cassia  family,  the  mimosa 
family,  and  twelve  other  families  closely  allied. 

Below  the  order  comes  the  family — a  division 
which  is  still  broadly  inclusive;  the  rose  family 
for  example  taking  in  not  only  the  rose  itself, 
but  the  apple,  the  blackberry,  and  sixty-two 
other  plants  whose  close  relationship  might  not 
at  first  be  evident. 

From  the  family  we  next  narrow  down  to  the 
genus — which  separates  the  rose  from  the  apple 
and  the  blackberry  and  gives  each  its  own  classi- 
fication. 

Beneath  the  genus  comes  the  species. 

And  beneath  the  species  the  variety. 

We  may  take  it  as  a  safe  observation  that 
the    simpler    the    form    of    life,    the    less    the 


SOME  HYBRID  BLACK- 
BERRY CANES 

It  is  quite  possible,  from  the  appear- 
ance of  the  cane  of  the  blackberry  at 
certain  stages,  to  predict  the  color  of 
the  fruit  which  is  later  to  be  borne. 
The  application  of  this  short  cut  is 
fully  explained  under  a  later  heading. 
The  picture  opposite  shows  a  range  of 
variation  produced  by  crossing. 


FACT   AND    THEORY  239 

tendency  toward  variation;  the  more  complex, 
the  greater  the  opportmiity  for  individual 
differences. 

So,  in  the  simpler  subkingdoms,  and  in  the 
more  general  divisions  down  to  and  includ- 
ing the  order,  the  lines  of  division  are  more 
readily  differentiated,  and  the  work  of  classi- 
fication has  been  fairly  free  from  differences  of 
opinion. 

But  as  the  order  breaks  up  into  families,  and 
the  family  breaks  up  into  genera,  and  the  genus 
breaks  up  into  species,  and  the  species  breaks  up 
into  varieties,  and  variations  tend  more  and  more 
to  carry  the  individual  away  from  its  kind,  there 
are  to  be  found  dissensions  and  differences  of 
opinion  which  could  hardly  be  chronicled  in 
eight  full  volumes  of  this  size. 

Nor  is  the  divergent  opinion  surprising. 

It  is  said  that,  of  an  iceberg  floating  in  the  sea, 
but  one-eighth  is  visible  to  the  surface  observer, 
while  seven-eighths  of  the  mass  is  submerged 
beneath  the  water  line. 

Who,  from  looking  at  the  one-eighth  in  view, 
could  be  expected  to  draw  an  accurate  detail 
picture  of  the  iceberg  as  a  whole? 

The  vegetable  kingdom  which  presents  itself 
to  our  vision  to-day  has  been  under  close  scientific 
observation,  at  most,  but  a  few  hundred  years. 


240  LUTHER   BURBANK 

It  has  behind  it,  who  shall  say,  how  many  tens 
of  thousands  of  generations  of  ancestry  which, 
coming  before  man,  went  by  unobserved — yet 
which,  under  new  environment,  are  continually 
bursting  forth  to  confuse  us. 

How  can  man,  with  only  one  ten-thousandth 
of  his  subject  revealed  to  him,  be  expected  to 
make  charts  or  maps  which  shall  withstand  on- 
slaught, or  be  superior  to  criticism? 

For  the  sake  of  ready  understanding  we  may, 
however,  summarize  plant  life  into  the  broad 
classifications  outlined  above. 

First,  the  vegetable  kingdom,  which  includes 
all  plants. 

Second,  the  subkingdom  or  phyla,  six  or  seven 
in  number. 

Third,  the  class,  which  ranks  above  an  order 
and  below  a  phylum. 

Fourth,  the  order,  which  ranks  between  the 
class  and  the  family. 

Fifth,  the  family,  which  ranks  below  an  order 
but  above  the  genus. 

Sixth,  the  genus,  which  ranks  below  a  family 
but  above  the  species. 

Seventh,  the  species,  which  ranks  below  a 
genus  and  above  the  variety. 

Eighth,  the  variety,  which  ranks  below  a 
species  and  above  the  individual. 


FACT    AND    THEORY  241 

Yet  with  but  one  certainty  in  the  entire  scheme 
of  classification — that  certainty  being  the  indi- 
vidual itself. 

Men  ma}^  tell  us  that  a  plant  belongs  to  one 
genus  or  to  another,  that  it  is  of  this  species,  or 
of  that — or  that  it  is  even  of  a  different  family 
than  at  first  we  thought — but  these,  after  all,  are 
but  theories,  built  up  about  the  plant  by  man — 
theories  which  serve  merely  as  guideposts  in  our 
work. 

The  plant  itself,  the  individual  plant,  if  we  but 
watch  it  and  give  it  an  opportunity,  will  tell 
us  for  itself,  beyond  dispute  or  denial,  just  what 
manner  of  plant  it  is — just  what  we  may  hope 
for  it  to  do. 

Next  in  importance  to  classifying  plants,  from 
a  superficial  standpoint,  is  a  method  of  naming 
them. 

When  we  go  to  the  florist's  we  ask  for  roses, 
or  marigolds;  when  we  go  to  the  fruiterer's  wx 
talk  to  him  of  oranges,  and  plums,  and  cherries; 
when  we  go  to  the  green  grocer  we  ask  for  let- 
tuce, or  cabbage,  or  peas;  when  we  select  furni- 
ture we  talk  of  it  as  being  made  of  mahogany, 
or  oak,  or  walnut. 

Thus,  commonly,  we  call  all  forms  of  plant 
life  by  their  nicknames — and  by  their  nicknames 
only  do  most  of  us  know  them. 


242  LUTHER   BURBAIS^K 

One  reason,  likely  enough,  is  that  the  scientific 
names  of  plants  are  in  Latin — for  the  good 
reason  that  the  Russian,  or  Swedish,  or  Spanish, 
or  American  scientist  is  able  to  describe  his 
work,  thus,  in  a  common  language. 

In  giving  a  plant  its  Latin  name,  no  attention 
is  paid  to  its  class,  order,  or  family. 

The  name  of  the  genus  becomes  its  first  name. 

The  name  of  the  species  follows. 

And  the  name  of  the  variety,  when  given, 
comes  last. 

Thus,  in  writing  the  scientific  name  for  an 
apricot,  or  a  plum,  or  a  cherry,  we  should  give 
first  the  name  of  the  genus,  which,  for  all  of 
these,  is  Prunus. 

If  we  are  to  describe,  for  instance,  a  cherry  of 
the  species  Avium,  we  should  write,  following 
the  name  of  the  genus,  the  name  of  the  species, 
as  Prunus  Avium. 

And  then,  if  we  were  to  write  the  name  of 
some  particular  improvement  in  that  species  of 
cherry,  we  should  follow  the  names  of  the  genus 
and  species  with  the  name  of  that  variety,  as 
Prunus  Avium  May  duke. 

Or,  if  we  were  to  prepare  a  technical  article 
about  this  species,  we  should  write  Prunus 
Avium  at  the  first  mention  of  it,  and  contract 
it  to  P.  Avium  when  mentioning  it  thereafter. 


FACT   AND    THEORY  243 

In  this  work,  in  order  to  gain  clearness  with 
the  least  effort,  and  to  avoid  confusion  through 
the  use  of  disputed  terms,  it  has  been  decided,  so 
far  as  possible,  to  call  plants  by  their  commonest 
names;  going,  wherever  necessary,  into  a  brief 
explanation  in  order  to  identify  the  plant  clearly 
in  the  mind  of  the  reader. 

Our  work  is  to  be  a  practical  work,  and  the 
effort  which  it  would  cost  to  master  thousands 
of  Latin  names  might,  it  is  believed,  be  better 
expended  in  a  study  of  the  principles  and  the 
practice. 

There  arises,  unfortunately,  a  confusion 
through  use  of  conmion  names.  The  California 
poppy,  for  example,  is  not  a  poppy  at  all;  but 
for  the  purposes  of  this  work  it  has  been  deemed 
best  to  call  it  the  California  poppy,  by  which 
name  it  is  generally  known,  rather  than  to  refer 
to  it  as  Eschscholtzia;  and  so  on  throughout  the 
list  of  other  plants. 

No  common  name  is  used,  however,  which  is 
not  to  be  found  in  the  dictionary;  so  that  those 
whose  scientific  interest  is  uppermost  have  but 
to  refer  to  their  Webster,  which  gives  a  greater 
wealth  of  detail  than  could  be  hoped  for  in  a 
glossary  or  an  appendix  to  these  volumes. 

A  few  years  after  I  came  to  Santa  Rosa,  I 
was  invited  to  hear  a  new  minister  preach  on  a 


244  LUTHER   BURBANK 

subject  which,  I  was  assured,  would  be  of  inter- 
est to  me. 

I  was  not  in  the  habit  of  attending  that  chiu'ch, 
so  I  tried  to  find  my  way  to  an  unobtrusive  seat 
in  the  rear,  where  I  could  disturb  no  one.  But, 
as  if  by  prearrangement,  the  usher  would  not 
have  it  that  way — I  was  led  to  the  front  center, 
where  I  was  given  a  pew  to  myself. 

As  soon  as  the  sermon  began,  I  saw  the  reason 
for  it  all.  That  preacher,  with  a  zeal  in  his  heart 
— or  perhaps  better  in  his  head — worthy  of  a 
better  cause,  had  evidently  planned  a  sermon  for 
my  own  particular  benefit.  He  was  determined 
to  show  me  the  error  of  my  ways. 

He  began  by  describing  "God's  complete  ar- 
rangements," as  evidenced  in  the  plants  about 
us,  and  rebuked  me  openly  for  trying  to  improve 
on  the  creations  of  Omnipotence,  He  held  me 
to  ridicule  as  one  who  believed  he  could  improve 
perfection;  he  predicted  dire  punishment  for 
attempting  to  thwart  nature  and  tried  to  per- 
suade me,  before  that  audience,  to  leave  God's 
plants  alone. 

Poor  man !  Whatever  may  have  been  thought 
of  his  good  taste,  or  his  tact,  or  his  judgment, 
I  could  hardly  take  offense  at  his  sentiments 
— for  they  really  reflected  the  thought  of  that 
day. 


FACT   AND    THEORY  245 

He  could  not  see  that  our  plants  are  what  they 
are  because  they  have  grown  up  with  the  birds, 
and  the  bees,  and  the  winds  to  help  them;  and 
that  now,  after  all  these  centuries  of  uphill 
struggle,  man  has  been  given  to  them  as  a  part- 
ner to  free  them  from  weakness  and  open  new 
doors  of  opportunity. 

He  could  not  see  that  all  of  us,  the  birds,  and 
the  bees,  and  the  flowers,  and  we,  ourselves,  are 
a  part  of  the  same  onward-moving  procession, 
each  helping  the  other  to  better  things;  nor 
could  many  others  of  his  time  see  it. 

And  the  botanists  of  that  day,  less  than  four 
short  decades  ago,  found  their  chief  work  in  the 
study  and  classification  of  dried  and  shriveled 
plant  mummies,  whose  souls  had  fled — ^I'ather 
than  in  the  living,  breathing  forms,  revealing 
their  life  histories. 

They  counted  the  stamens  of  a  dried  flower 
without  looking  for  the  causes  for  those  stamens; 
they  measured  and  surveyed  the  length  and 
breadth  of  truth  with  never  a  thought  of  its 
depth — they  charted  its  surface,  as  if  never 
realizing  that  it  was  a  thing  of  three  dimensions. 

And  that  is  why  those  who  had  devoted  their 
lifetimes  to  counting  stamens  and  classifying 
shapes  told  me,  through  their  writings,  that  a 
cross  might  be  made  within  species,  but  never 


245  LUTHER  BURBANK 

between  species;  that  is  why  when  I  did  make  a 
cross  between  species  they  looked  no  further  into 
the  truth,  but  simply  moved  up  a  notch,  and  said, 
"Very  well,  but  you  cannot  make  a  cross  between 
genera";  that  is  why,  when  I  did  that  very  thing, 
not  once,  but  several  times,  that  type  of  scientist 
lost  interest  in  rule  making  and  went  back  to 
stamen  counting. 

To  realize  the  point  more  clearly,  let  us  ob- 
serve for  a  moment  the  common  tomato — which 
belongs  to  that  large  division  of  plants,  the 
Solanum  family. 

Just  as  the  rose  family  includes  not  only  the 
rose,  but  the  apple  and  the  blackberry  and  hun- 
dreds of  other  plants,  so  the  Solanum  family 
includes  seventy-five  genera  and  more  than 
eighteen  hundred  species. 

The  classification  is  built  around  structural 
facts,  such  as  that  plants  of  this  family  originally 
had  alternate  leaves  with  five  stamens  and  a  two- 
celled  ovary,  or  tgg  chamber,  each  cell  contain- 
ing many  eggs. 

These  structural  similarities  in  the  plants  of 
this  family  trace  back  to  a  common  parentage 
and  fully  justify  the  classification  of  these 
seventy-five  genera  in  a  single  family. 

If  we  were  to  look  not  at  the  structure,  how- 
ever, but  at  the  seventy-five  genera  themselves 


FACT   AND    THEORY  247 

then,  and  only  then,  could  we  fully  realize 
the  wonders  which  environment,  blending  with 
that  common  heredity  within  the  plant,  has 
wrought. 

We  should  see,  among  the  seventy-five 
brothers  and  sisters  of  that  family,  if  they  were 
spread  before  us,  the  poisonous  bittersweet,  and 
the  humble  but  indispensable  potato;  the  egg 
plant  and  the  Jerusalem  cherry;  the  horse 
nettle  and  the  jimson  weed;  the  tobacco  plant 
and  the  beautiful  petunia;  and  the  tomato 
itself. 

We  should  see  seventy-five  plants  with  orig- 
inal structural  similarities,  yet  differing,  in  every 
other  way,  as  night  differs  from  day;  and  we 
should  be  able  to  trace,  if  we  observed  closely 
enough,  the  points  at  which,  in  the  history  of  this 
family,  new  environment,  oft  repeated,  has 
hardened  into  heredity,  subject  to  the  call  of 
still  new  environment,  which  has  not  been  lack- 
ing to  bring  it  out ;  we  shoidd  be  able  to  trace,  by 
easy  stages,  why  one  branch  ran  to  the  poisonous 
bittersweet,  another  to  the  potato  with  its  food 
product  below  the  ground,  another  to  the  tomato 
with  its  tempting  fruit  displayed  on  the  vines 
above;  another  to  tobacco,  valued  for  its  chemi- 
cal content — and  so  on  throughout  all  of  the 
variations. 


VARIATIONS    IN   WALNUTS 

The  variations  here  shown  were  se- 
cured by  crossing.  In  this  walnut  work 
nuts  are  grown  by  the  wagonload  for 
the  purpose  of  finding  one  or  two  vari- 
eties which  may  approach  the  ideal 
desired. 


m  •• 


^ 


* 


A 


FACT   AND    THEORY  249 

The  tomato,  we  should  see,  was  the  last  of  the 
family  to  fall  into  a  violent  change  of  environ- 
ment. 

A  tropical  plant,  bearing  fruits  about  the  size 
of  a  hickory  nut  and  not  believed  to  be  edible, 
the  tomato  found  its  way  into  the  United  States 
within  the  past  century. 

At  first,  the  tomato  plant  was  prized  merely 
as  an  ornament;  it  was  grown  as  we  now  grow 
rose  bushes,  and  the  fruit  was  looked  upon  as 
a  mantel  decoration  until,  by  accident,  it  was 
discovered  to  be  edible.  There  are,  in  fact,  many 
such  ornamentals  to-day  which  might  bear  us 
edible  fruit.  One  in  particular,  the  passion 
flower,  will  form  the  subject  of  an  interesting 
description  later  on. 

Following  the  discovery  that  the  tomato  was 
edible  came  the  same  course  of  unconscious  selec- 
tion that  falls  to  the  lot  of  every  useful  plant. 
The  finest  tomatoes  were  saved  and  cultivated. 

In  the  environment  of  the  tropics,  the  tomato 
fruit  of  hickory  nut  size  was  ideal;  it  cost  less 
effort  to  produce  than  a  larger  tomato;  it  con- 
tained sufficient  seeds  to  insure  reproduction. 

But  with  the  advent  of  man  into  its  environ- 
ment, its  seed  chambers  increased  in  number,  the 
meat  surrounding  the  seeds  increased  greatly  in 
quantity  and  improved  in  quality;  so  that  in 


250  LUTHER   BURBANK 

virtually  half  a  century  the  large,  luscious,  juicy 
tomato  we  now  know  is  universally  to  be  found 
in  our  markets,  in  season  and  out. 

No  man  can  say  how  many  thousands  or  tens 
of  thousands  of  years  it  took  wild  environment  to 
separate  the  tomato  from  the  seventy-four  others 
of  its  family.  Yet,  in  less  than  half  a  century, 
see  what  changes  man,  as  an  element  of  environ- 
ment, has  worked! 

We  take  the  seeds  of  our  Ponderosa  tomatoes, 
and  midsummer  brings  us  new  Ponderosas — so 
well  have  we  succeeded  in  fixing  the  traits  we 
desire. 

But  were  we  to  take  those  same  seeds  to  the 
tropics  and  plant  them  under  the  conditions  of 
only  fifty  years  ago  an  entirely  different  thing 
would  happen. 

The  first  generation  would  be  Ponderosas, 
more  or  less  like  those  we  grow  here. 

But  in  the  second  generation,  or,  at  latest,  the 
third,  the  seeds  of  those  very  Ponderosas,  when 
planted,  would  grow  into  vines  which  bear  the 
old  type  of  tomato — the  size  of  a  hickory  nut — 
an  immediate  response,  almost,  to  the  wild 
tropical  environment  which  prevailed  before  man 
began  its  culture. 

From  the  botanists  of  only  a  century  ago, 
examining  only  dead  tomato  blossoms  from  the 


FACT   AND    THEORY  251 

tropics,  and  dried  tomato  fruits  the  size  of 
hickory  nuts — how  could  we  expect  an  inkhng, 
even,  of  what  the  tomato  with  less  than  half  a 
century  of  cultivation  could  become? 

How  short,  indeed,  the  time  which  environ- 
ment requires  to  transform  a  plant  beyond 
recognition — especially  when  man,  either  con- 
sciously or  unconsciously,  becomes  a  part  of  that 
environment ! 

And,  knowing  what  the  Orientals  did  to  the 
pear,  what  the  American  Indian  did  to  corn, 
what  w^e  have  done  to  the  tomato,  can  we  not  see 
that  while  stamen  counting  has  its  place,  yet, 
for  real  achievement  in  plant  improvement,  we 
must  look  for  help  not  so  much  to  the  stamen 
counters  as  to  the  plants  themselves  as  new  en- 
vironment brings  their  old  heredities  into  view. 

How  far,  then,  can  plant  combination  be 
carried?  Is  it  possible  to  go  above  the  genus 
and  make  combinations  between  families?  Or  to 
go  above  the  family  and  make  combinations  be- 
tween the  orders  ?  Or  to  go  above  the  orders  and 
make  combinations  between  the  classes?  Or  to 
go  above  the  classes  and  make  combinations  be- 
tween the  kingdoms? 

The  limitations  of  our  work  are  not  generally 
limitations  imposed  by  nature;  they  are  limita- 
tions imposed  by  the  clock  and  the  calendar. 


252  LUTHER   BURBANK 

Here  we  are,  pitting  ten  thousand  years  of 
hardened  heredity  against  five  or  ten  years  of 
new  environment;  sometimes  we  succeed.  Is  it 
any  wonder  that  more  often  we  fail?  In  five 
years,  however,  we  can  often  work  a  practical 
transformation. 

Every  season  we  are  working  changes  which 
nature  would  take  ages  to  work;  but  from  a 
practical  standpoint  we  must  seek  always  to  take 
advantage  of  the  old  heredities  which  nature  has 
stored  up — to  make  them  serve  our  ends,  be- 
cause this  can  be  done  quickly;  rather  than  to 
create  and  fix  new  heredities  which  might  take 
so  long  as  to  rob  our  work  of  its  usefulness. 

Before  us  is  a  world  of  living,  onward  march- 
ing plants  which  have  made,  are  making,  and  will 
continue  to  make  their  own  rules  as  they  go 
along.  Here  before  us,  too,  is  the  propaganda  of 
our  subject  with  its  maps,  plans,  charts,  rules, 
laws,  theories,  beliefs,  built  up  all  too  fixedly,  too 
arbitrarily,  too  superficially,  perhaps,  but  very 
completely,  nevertheless,  around  this  onward- 
marching  mass. 

Let  us  use  to  the  utmost  all  the  help  that  sci- 
ence can  give ;  to  save  time,  let  us  accept  the  laws 
and  the  rules,  let  us  have  confidence  in  the  maps 
and  the  charts,  until  the  plants  themselves  show 
our  error. 


FACT    AND    THEORY  253 

Let  us  search  always,  at  least  for  present  prac- 
tical use,  for  stored-up  heredities;  just  as  we 
would  seek  stored-up  diamonds,  or  gold,  or  coal, 
instead  of  trying,  by  chemistry,  to  produce  them. 

Great  results  are  possible  with  time,  but  let  us 
seek  all  the  short  cuts  we  can. 

For,  after  all,  we  have  so  little  of  time ! 

With  time  as  our  limiting  factor,  then,  we 
shall  find  in  plant  work  many  things  which  we 
cannot  hope  to  accomplish. 

We  shall  find  plants,  of  course,  of  different 
species,  and  different  genera — as  now  classified 
— a  surprising  number,  in  spite  of  the  old  belief, 
which  will  combine  readily  to  produce  fertile  off- 
spring constituting  a  new  species  or  a  new  genus. 

We  shall  find  plants  of  different  species  or 
genera  which  combine  to  make  a  sterile  offspring 
— a  mule  among  plants. 

And  we  shall  find  plants  which  can  hardly  be 
combined  at  all — plants  in  which  the  pollen  of 
one  seems  to  act  as  a  definite  poison  on  the  other 
— and  plants  which,  through  long  fixed  heredity, 
seem  as  averse  to  combination  as  oil  seems  averse 
to  combining  with  water. 

But  no  man  can  tell  until  he  has  tried — tried 
not  once,  but  a  few  thousand  times  perhaps. 

"What  is  that?"  asked  a  seedsman  who  was 
visiting  Santa  Rosa. 


A   HEAVY-BEARING 
SEEDLING 

This  complex  hybrid  hears  large 
hunches  of  grapes  of  uniform  size  and 
in  enormous  profusion.  It  has  all  the 
qualities  of  an  ideal  grape,  for  the 
fruit  also  is  supremely  delicious. 


FACT    AND    THEORY  255 

"That  is  a  Nicotunia,  and  you  are  the  first  man 
in  the  world  who  has  ever  seen  one.  It  is  the 
name  which  I  have  given  to  a  new  race  of  plants 
produced  by  crossing  the  large  flowering  Nico- 
tiana,  or  tobacco  plants,  with  petunias.  It  is,  as 
you  can  see,  a  cross  between  two  genera  of  the 
nightshade  family." 

"H'm!"  said  the  seedsman. 

You  know  the  secret  now,  but  if  you  think 
that  you  can  produce  these  Nicotunia  as  you 
would  hybrid  petunias,  or  crossbred  primroses, 
go  ahead  and  try;  there  is  no  patent  on  their 
manufacture ;  but  if  the  five  hundredth  cross  suc- 
ceeds, under  the  best  conditions  obtainable,  you 
will  surely  be  very  successful.  I  do  not  fear  any 
immediate  competition. 

Perhaps  those  who  have  said  that  species  could 
not  be  combined  with  species,  or  genus  with 
genus,  have  tried  only  once  or  twice  or  a  dozen 
times.  Perhaps  patience  and  persistence  as  well 
as  a  wider  knowledge  account  for  some  of  the 
upset  laws. 

"Why  not  content  ourselves  to  work  within 
varieties  as  the  bees  work?"  asks  some  one. 

Because  by  going  out  of  the  varieties  and  com- 
bining, we  multiply  almost  infinitely  the  com- 
binations of  old  heredities  which  we  may  bring 
into  play — we  lessen  the  work  which  we  have  to 


256  LUTHER   BURBANK 

make  environment  do  by  spreading  before  us 
more  combinations  of  heredity — we  accomplish 
in  two  years  what  otherwise  might  take  two  life- 
times. 

We  see  that  the  science  of  plant  life  is  not  yet 
an  exact  science,  like  mathematics,  in  wliich  two 
and  two  always  equals  four.  It  is  not  a  science 
in  which  the  definite  answers  to  specific  problems 
can  be  fomid  in  any  book. 

It  is  a  science  which  involves  endless  experi- 
menting— endless  seeking  after  better  and  better 
results. 

Theories  are  good,  because  if  we  do  not  per- 
mit them  to  mislead  us,  they  may  save  us  time; 
laws,  and  maps,  and  charts,  and  diagrams — sys- 
tems of  classification  and  of  nomenclature — all 
these  are  good,  because,  if  they  are  faulty,  the}'' 
still  reveal  to  us  the  viewpoint  of  some  one  who, 
with  diligence,  has  devoted  himself  to  a  single 
phase,  at  least,  of  a  complex  subject. 

But  we  must  remember  that  the  theories,  most 
of  them,  are  built  around  dead  plants. 

While  the  facts  we  are  to  use  are  to  be  gath- 
ered from  living  ones. 

So,  every  once  in  a  while,  when  we  come  to  a 
crossroads  where  that  kind  of  theory  and  this 
kind  of  fact  seem  to  part,  let  us  stick  to  the  thing 
which  the  living  plant  tells  us,  and  assume  that 


FACT    AND    THEORY  257 

evolution,  or  improvement,  or  progress,  or  w^hat- 
ever  we  choose  to  call  it,  has  stolen  another  lap 
on  the  plant  historians. 

And  let  us  remember  that  the  fact  that  ours  is 
not  an  exact  science,  with  fixed  answers  to  its 
problems,  is  more  than  made  up  for  by  the  com- 
pensating fact  that  there  seems  to  be  no  limit 
to  the  perfection  to  which  plant  achievements 
may  be  carried — no  impassable  barrier,  appar- 
ently (save  time — which  limits  us  all,  in  every- 
thing), beyond  which  our  experiments  may 
not  go. 


Nature  did  not  make  the  laws; 
she  limits  herself  to  no  grooves;  she 
travels  to  no  set  schedule. 


Vol.  1— Bur.  I 


MARVELOUS  POSSIBILITIES  IN 

THE    IMPROVEMENT 

OF  PLANTS 

Geneeal  Survey  of  Some  of  the  Immediate 
Improvements  Needed. 

**Tr  HAVE  finished  making  an  analysis  of  a 
J  number  of  your  fruits,"  wrote  a  chemist, 
"and  I  find  that  tannic  acid,  which  no  one 
likes  in  their  fruits,  vegetables,  nuts,  or  other 
food,  and  which  prevents  many  people  from  en- 
joying raw  fruit,  is  almost  entirely  absent  in 
every  case." 

There  are  other  acids,  however,  which  are 
beautifully  blended  with  grape  sugars  and  other 
sweet  substances  and  flavors  wliich  make  our 
fruits  so  delightful  and  so  valuable  for  food. 
Would  it  be  a  small  achievement  to  rebuild  our 
fruits,  grains  and  vegetables  so  as  to  add  to  the 
health,  happiness,  and  advancement  of  the 
human    race  ? 

Such  a  transformation  is  one  which  might 
easily  be  wrought  in  a  few  years  through  simple 

259 


260  LUTHER   BURBANK 

selection,  and  serves,  here,  to  illustrate  the  vast 
range  of  possibilities  in  plant  improvement  which 
only  await  willing  hands  and  active  minds  to  turn 
them  into  realization. 

Immediate  possibilities  for  plant  improvement 
outnumber  the  improvements  which  have  al- 
ready'' been  wrought,  a  thousand  to  one. 

It  is  planned  in  these  books  to  treat  of  the 
possibilities  of  some  of  the  plants  separately,  in 
connection  with  the  description  of  the  work  which 
has  already  been  done,  since  each  of  these  im- 
provements not  only  suggests  the  road  to  count- 
less other  improvements  which  one  has  not  had 
time  to  take  up,  but  indicates,  in  a  measure,  the 
method  by  which  their  accomplishment  may  be 
brought  about. 

It  may  be  well,  at  this  point,  however,  to  sur- 
vey, roughly,  the  range  of  possibilities  for  im- 
provement, so  that,  as  we  go  along,  we  may  have 
an  appreciative  eye  for  the  better  valuation  of 
the  things  which  are  awaiting  accomplishment. 

The  elimination  of  tannic  acid  through  experi- 
mentation for  other  purposes  is  but  one  of  the 
many  improvements  which  have  been  brought 
to  our  attention. 

Possibly  as  striking  an  illustration  of  this  as 
could  be  chosen  is  one  which  made  itself  evident 
in  the  plumcot. 


MARVELOUS   POSSIBILITIES    261 

So  intent  was  I  in  the  purpose  of  combining 
these  two  species,  the  phm  and  the  apricot — a 
fruit  which  should  reflect  its  double  parentage  in 
flesh  and  flavor — that  I  thought  it  best  to  ignore 
some  of  the  incidental  possibilities  of  such  a  com- 
bination. 

The  cross  having  been  made,  however,  much 
thought  was  given  to  the  study  of  other  new 
characters  which  the  combination  afforded. 

Some  of  these  were  recognized  as  being  of 
little  practical  value,  others  of  great  importance. 
The  foliage  of  the  plumcot  tree,  for  example, 
does  not  necessarily  resemble  either  the  plum  or 
the  apricot,  being  quite  generally  intermediate, 
but  it  may  be  noted  in  passing  that  the  foliage  of 
a  cross  or  hybrid  often  takes  on  the  characteris- 
tics of  either  one  parent  or  the  other,  or  may  con- 
sist of  intermediate  leaves,  or  may  even  present 
leaves  of  two  distinct  kinds  on  the  same  indi- 
vidual plant,  but  often  bearing  a  close  resem- 
blance to  one  or  the  other  of  the  parents, 
especially  in  the  second  and  succeeding  gen- 
erations. 

The  plumcot  foliage  being  a  blend,  it  was  not 
surprising  to  discover  that  the  root  of  the  plum- 
cot tree  resembled  in  color  neither  the  bright  red 
of  the  apricot,  nor  the  pale  yellow  of  the  plum, 
but  was  of  an  intermediate  shade. 


262  LUTHER   BURBANK 

Of  the  thousands  of  characteristics  of  the  par- 
ent species  as  they  were  subjected  to  examina- 
tion and  analysis,  one  of  the  most  startling  was 
found  in  the  surface  texture  of  the  fruit  itself — 
one  of  the  most  novel  effects,  m  fact,  to  be  seen 
in  nature. 

The  apricot  has  a  fine  velvety  skin  w^hich 
serves  not  only  as  a  protection  to  the  fruit  from 
insects  and  from  the  sun's  rays,  but  which  adds 
greatly  to  its  attractive  appearance. 

Plums,  on  the  contrary,  always  have  a  smooth 
skin,  and  are  often  overspread  with  a  delicate 
white  or  bluish  bloom,  powdery  in  form  and 
easily  defaced  by  the  slightest  handling.  This 
bloom  adds  a  touch  of  delicac}''  and  beauty 
to  the  fruit,  suggests  its  freshness  and  in- 
tensifies the  attractiveness  of  the  colors  under- 
neath. 

In  the  first  plumcots  it  was  noticed  that  many 
had  a  softer,  more  velvety  skin  than  the  apri- 
cot and  that  this  persisted  after  much  handling. 
Then,  as  the  characteristics  began  to  become 
more  fixed,  after  several  generations  of  plumcots 
had  appeared,  it  was  noticed  that  the  new  fruit 
not  only  had  the  attractive  velvety  skin  of  the 
apricot,  but  that  this  velvet  overspread  and  pro- 
tected a  bloom  like  that  of  the  plum,  giving  the 
plumcot  the  plum's  delicacy  of  appearance  with 


MARVELOUS   POSSIBILITIES    263 

the  apricot's  ability  to  stand  handling  without 
injury. 

When  this  blend  of  bloom  and  velvet  was 
noted,  experiments  were  made  to  determine  how 
much  handling  it  would  withstand.  A  dozen 
plumcots  were  passed  around  from  hand  to  hand 
many  times,  and  then  left  to  fully  ripen  and  de- 
cay, the  condition  of  the  velvet  bloom  being 
noted  from  time  to  tune.  While  there  was  a 
slight  decrease  in  the  brilliancy  of  the  bloom,  yet 
it  persisted  to  a  surprising  degree,  even  after  the 
flesh  of  the  plumcot  had  decayed. 

The  value  of  this  characteristic  is  greater  than 
might  at  first  be  supposed.  Plums  lose  their 
bloom  to  a  great  extent,  even  on  the  tree,  by 
brushing  of  leaves  or  chafing  together.  Wher- 
ever foliage  or  other  fruit  touches  it,  the  bloom 
is  injured  or  destroyed.  It  is  of  course  impos- 
sible to  market  the  plum  without  destroying  the 
greater  part  of  the  bloom,  thus  giving  the  fruit 
a  shiny  appearance.  In  making  the  photographs 
in  these  books,  in  fact,  it  has  been  found  difficult, 
first  to  find  a  plum  fruit  of  any  variety  which 
has  a  perfect  bloom  on  the  tree;  and  second,  to 
get  the  plum  in  front  of  the  camera  without  de- 
facing it.  Wherever  a  finger  touches  the  plum, 
a  mark  is  left,  and  since  fruits,  at  best,  must 
receive  much  handling  from  the  orchard  to  the 


THE  PLUM'S  PERISHABLE 
BLOOM 

From  this  direct-color  'photograph 
print  the  result  of  handling  plums  may 
he  imagined.  These  plums  have  been 
defaced  merely  by  the  swishing  of  the 
branches  of  the  tree  on  which  they 
grew.  Since  the  bloom  suggests  the 
freshness  of  the  fruit,  its  perishability  is 
a  great  drawback  in  handling  and  ship- 
ping plums  to  the  market.  The  plum' 
cots  are  not  defaced  by  handling. 


MARVELOUS    POSSIBILITIES     265 

ultimate  consumer,  the  plum  is  likely  to  lose  one 
of  its  most  attractive  charms  long  before  its  real 
freshness  or  flavor  has  begun  to  depreciate. 

With  ma::y  of  the  plumcots,  however,  the  vel- 
vety bloom  remains  through  growing,  picking, 
sorting,  shipping,  handling,  and  sale.  Which 
means,  of  course,  that  the  grower,  the  shipper 
and  dealer  receive  a  better  profit,  and  the  con- 
sumer gladl}^  pays  the  extra  cost,  because  ap- 
pearance, after  all,  is  nearly  as  valuable  a  point 
in  a  fruit  as  size,  flavor,  or  quality.  This  one  im- 
provement in  the  plumcot  greatly  increases  the 
earning  capacity  of  the  fruit,  which  is  simply  an- 
other evidence  of  the  importance,  in  plant  im- 
provement (and  elsewhere),  of  things  which,  at 
first,  we  are  too  apt  to  regard  as  trifles. 

It  is  the  seeming  trifles,  after  all,  which  appear 
to  have  the  greatest  effect  on  prices  and  profits. 

Of  two  samples  of  canned  asparagus  one  may 
command  more  than  twice  the  retail  price  of  the 
other,  and  also  bring  perhaps  nearly  double  the 
profit  to  the  grower,  simply  because  of  the  trifle 
that  one  variety  of  asparagus  holds  its  form  and 
color  through  all  the  operations  from  the  garden 
to  the  table,  while  the  other,  dark  colored  or 
broken  in  structure,  presents  an  unappetizing- 
appearance  when  served,  and  since  it  costs  no 
more  to  raise  the  best  asaparagus,  after  the  ex- 


266  LUTHER   BURBANK 

pense  of  a  few  seasons  of  selection  has  been  paid 
for,  what  excuse  can  there  be  for  producing  the 
other  kind? 

It  would  be  impossible  here  to  begin  to  cata- 
log the  improvements  which  can  be  wrought — 
improvements  in  size,  shape,  color,  texture,  juici- 
ness, flavor,  sweetness,  or  chemical  content  of 
fruits;  improvements  in  the  appearance,  tender- 
ness, taste,  cooking  qualities,  and  nutritive  ele- 
ments in  vegetables ;  improvements  in  length  and 
strength  of  fiber  in  cotton,  flax,  hemp,  and  in 
many  other  textile  plants;  improvements  in  the 
quantity  and  quality  and  color  of  grains;  im- 
provements in  amount  and  value  of  the  chemical 
content  of  sugar  beets,  sorghum,  coffee,  tea,  and 
all  other  plants  which  are  raised  for  their  ex- 
tracts; improvements  in  the  stalks  of  corn,  even, 
so  that,  though  we  could  make  it  bear  no  more 
kernels,  or  no  more  ears,  it  would  still  yield  us  a 
better  forage  crop ;  or  better  quality  and  greater 
productiveness  of  its  special  products:  starch, 
gluten,  oil,  sugar,  etc.;  improvements,  all  of 
them,  which  are  capable  of  turning  losses  into 
profits,  and  of  multiplying  profits,  instead  of 
merely  adding  to  them  by  single  per  cents. 

Improving  the  yield,  and  consequently  the 
usefulness  and  profit  of  existing  plants,  however, 
is  but  the  beginning  of  the  work  before  us. 


MARVELOUS    POSSIBILITIES     267 

An  almost  equally  rich  field  lies  in  saving 
plants  from  their  own  extravagances,  thereby  in- 
creasing the  yield. 

The  fruit  trees  of  our  fathers  and  mothers 
were  shade  trees  in  size,  with  all  too  little 
fruit. 

The  ideal  orchard  of  to-day,  generally  speak- 
ing, is  one  from  which  the  fruit  can  be  picked 
without  the  use  of  a  ladder.  Thus,  already,  we 
have  taught  fruit-bearing  plants  economy — • 
saved  them  the  extravagance  of  making  unneces- 
sary wood,  at  the  expense  of  fruit,  since  it  is  their 
fruit,  not  wood,  which  we  desire. 

The  grapes  of  our  childhood  grew  sparsely  on 
climbing  vines  which  covered  our  arbors;  while 
the  grapes  grown  for  profit  to-day  grow  thickly, 
almost  solidly,  on  shorter,  more  compact  vines. 
The  value  of  the  vine  lies  in  the  fruit  and  not  in 
the  wood. 

In  so  many  different  ways  can  we  save  our 
plants  extravagance  and  increase  their  useful 
products  by  curbing  their  useless  ones,  that  it 
would  not  be  even  possible  to  list  them  here.  But, 
aside  from  these,  and  in  the  same  category,  there 
are  countless  other  improvements  to  be  wi'ought. 
The  stoneless  plum,  the  seedless  grape,  orange, 
lemon  and  others  point  the  way  to  a  new  world 
,  of  fruits  in  which  the  stony  or  shell-like  covering 


268  LUTHER   BURBANK 

of  the  seeds  has  been  bred  away.  Wild  pine- 
apple fruits  are  crowded  with  seeds,  but  who  has 
seen  seeds  in  our  cultivated  ones  ?  Yet  the  pack- 
ers of  pineapple  in  the  Hawaiian  Islands  tell 
me  that  about  one  in  a  million  of  the  cultivated 
ones  are  found  containing  large  quantities  of 
seed — a  reversion  to  the  wild  type. 

Seedless  raspberries,  blackberries,  gooseber- 
ries, currants,  Avith  the  energy  saved,  reinvested 
in  added  size  or  better  flavor,  call  for  some  one 
to  bring  them  about.  Grapes  more  or  less  seed- 
less we  have  had  for  a  hundred  years  or  more, 
and  one  seedless  orange  has  been  known  for  half 
a  century  and  the  seedless  banana  has  been 
known  perhaps  for  a  thousand  years,  while  all 
wild  bananas  are  half  filled  with  large,  black, 
hard,  bulletlike  seeds.  Seedless  figs,  even 
might  be  produced,  but  these  could  be  counted 
as  no  improvement,  for  the  oily  seeds  of  the  fig 
give  the  fruit  a  part  of  its  flavor. 

Thornless  blackberries  and  spineless  cactus 
are  productions  of  priceless  value,  as  is  be- 
ing abundantly  proven.  Many  other  thornless 
plants  are  to  come  shortly.  Why  thorns  at  all 
in  the  world  of  useful  plants,  when  useful  plants 
no  longer  need  them?  They  are  as  expensive 
and  useless  as  horned  cattle,  which  are  every- 
where being  replaced  by  hornless  ones. 


MARVELOUS    POSSIBILITIES  269 

Whatever  plant  we  observe  we  shall  see  some 
waste  which  might  be  eliminated,  some  weakness 
which  might  be  overcome,  some  extravagance 
which  might  be  checked — and  all  for  the  profit 
of  producer  and  consumer  alike,  as  well  as  the 
whole  world  at  large. 

Still  another  important  department  of  plant 
improvement  lies  in  fitting  plants  to  meet 
specific    conditions. 

The  grape  growers  of  France,  Spain,  and 
California,  for  example,  had  their  fair  vineyards 
destroyed  by  a  little  plant  root  louse  (Phyllox- 
era),  Si  pest  which  renders  the  vine  useless  or 
kills  it  outright.  The  growers  found  relief 
through  grafting  their  vines  on  phylloxera  re- 
sistant roots  which  past  environment  had 
armored  against  this  pest. 

When  we  think  of  the  cactus,  sagebrush  and 
the  desert  euphorbia,  and  of  the  conditions' 
which,  imaided,  they  have  withstood  and  the 
enemies  which  they  have  overcome,  does  it  not 
seem  as  if,  with  our  help,  we  should  be  able  to 
produce  new  races  of  plants  to  withstand  the 
boll  weevil,  the  codling  moth,  and  the  San  Jose 
scale ;  and  with  complaints  so  broadcast  and  suc- 
cesses so  marked  and  so  many,  does  not  the  pro- 
duction of  disease-and-pest-resisting  varieties 
seem  an  important  field  for  work? 


270  LUTHER   BURBANK 

Nor  are  the  insects  and  fungous  diseases  the 
only  enemies  which  plants  can  be  taught  to  over- 
come. Trees  have  been  trained  to  bloom  later 
in  the  season  so  as  to  avoid  the  late  spring  frosts 
which  might  nip  their  buds;  and  to  bear  earlier, 
that  their  fruit  may  be  gathered  before  the  early 
frosts  of  fall  have  come  to  destroy.  The  gladio- 
lus has  been  encouraged  to  rearrange  its  blos- 
soms, shorten  its  stalk  and  thicken  its  petals,  so 
that  the  hot  sunshine  and  the  wind  no  longer 
ruins  its  beauty. 

And  the  prune,  which  at  times  must  lie  on 
the  ground  till  it  is  gathered  or  even  cured,  had 
the  habit,  here  in  California,  of  ripening  about 
the  time  of  the  equinoctial  rains  of  fall.  It  has 
been  helped  to  shift  its  bearing  season  earlier, 
so  that,  now,  when  the  rains  come,  some  of  the 
newer  prunes  have  been  cured  and  are  under 
cover. 

In  all  of  these  enemies  of  plant  life: 
insects,  fungous  diseases,  rains,  winds,  frosts, 
snows,  and  the  parching  heat  of  the  plains, 
there  are  opportunities  for  great  improve- 
ment in  plants,  trees,  grasses,  gi-ains,  and 
flowers. 

Yet  these  enemies  form  the  least  important, 
perhaps,  of  the  special  conditions  to  which  plants 
may  be  accommodated. 


MARVELOUS    POSSIBILITIES    271 

The  market  demand,  for  example,  is  a  specific 
condition  which  well  repays  any  effort  expended 
in  transforming  plants  to  meet. 

The  grower  of  early  cherries,  early  asparagus, 
early  corn  and  every  fruit  and  food  which  can 
be  offered  before  the  season  of  more  abundant 
production  commences,  is  rewarded  with  a 
better  price,  which  means  a  larger  profit  to  the 
producer. 

The  early  bearers,  too,  may  be  supplanted 
with  those  still  earlier,  until  the  extra  early 
ones  come  soon  after  the  extra  late  ones,  thus 
filling  out  the  whole  year.  We  now  have 
strawberries  which,  in  climates  where  there  is 
no  frost  severe  enough  to  prevent,  bear  the  year 
around. 

The  Crimson  Winter  Rhubarb,  another  year- 
around  bearer,  is  an  improvement  which  shows 
what  can  be  done  in  the  way  of  meeting  market 
demands. 

Cherries  of  my  Early  Burbank  brought  $3.10 
a  pound  wholesale,  because  of  their  sweetness 
and  extreme  earliness.  This  may  give  an  idea 
of  the  profit  of  changing  the  bearing  periods  of 
our  plants  as  against  taking  their  product  as 
it  comes. 

Besides  the  market  demand  for  fresh  fruits 
and  vegetables  ahead  of  the  usual  time,  there  is 


272  LUTHER   BURBANK 

an  almost  equally  great  demand  in  larger  quan- 
tities, later  on  in  the  season,  from  the  canners 
and  for  drying. 

The  illustration  of  the  asparagus  which  stands 
canning  as  against  asparagus  which  does  not, 
typifies  the  needs  of  this  demand.  The  same 
truth  applies  to  tree  fruits  and  berries  and  vege-- 
tables — to  everything  that  undergoes  the  pre- 
serving process. 

Some  plants  are  more  profitable  when  their 
bearing  season  is  lengthened  as  much  as  possible ; 
some,  as  has  been  seen,  when  it  is  made  earlier  or 
later;  but  we  faced  a  different  condition  when 
v^e  produced  the  Empson  pea. 

The  canners  wanted  a  very  small  sweet  green 
pea  to  imitate  the  French  one  which  was  so  much 
in  demand.  Quite  a  little  problem  in  chemistry 
was  involved.  Peas  half  grown  are  sweeter  than 
peas  full  grown,  because,  toward  the  end,  their 
sugar  begins  to  go  a  step  further  and  turn  into 
starch.  With  these  demands  in  mind,  we  planted 
and  selected;  planted  again  and  reselected  until 
we  had  the  desired  qualities  in  a  pea  of  the  right 
size  when  half  ripe. 

Still  another  element  entered — peas  for  can- 
ning should  rij)en  all  at  one  time  and  not  strag- 
gle out  over  a  week  or  two.  The  reason  for  this 
being  that,  if  they  ripen  all  at  once,  they  may 


MARVELOUS    POSSIBILITIES    273 

be  htirvested  by  machinery  so  that  the  cost  of 
handling  is  cut  to  the  mininunn. 

We  took  the  peas  which  we  had  selected  for 
form,  size,  color,  taste,  content,  and  productive- 
ness, and  out  of  thousands  obtained  perhaps  a 
few  hundred  peas  which  were  planted  sej)arately. 
These,  then,  were  harvested  by  separately  count- 
ing the  pods  and  counting  the  peas,  until  finally 
there  was  combined  in  this  selection  not  only  the 
best  of  the  lot,  but  those  which  ripened  all  at  the 
same  time — practically  on  the  same  day.  To- 
day the  Burbank  Empson  peas  form  one  of  the* 
chief  industries  of  a  large  community. 

This  contract  was  made  to  be  fulfilled  in  six 
years,  but  as  two  crops  of  peas  can  be  ripened 
each  season  the  desired  production  was  ready  and 
completed  in  three  years. 

There  are  countless  other  requirements  which 
can  be  equally  well  met — little  economies  which 
can  be  taught  to  the  plants  —  little,  as  applied 
to  any  specific  plants,  but  tremendous  in  the 
aggregate. 

The  list  could  be  extended  almost  endlessly; 
the  skin  of  a  plum  was  thickened  so  as  to  enable 
it  to  be  shipped  from  Cecii  Rhodes's  farm  in 
South  Africa,  by  way  of  the  Isthmus  of  Suez  to 
England,  then  to  New  York,  with  some  delays, 
then  to  California,  arriving  in  good  condition. 


274  LUTHER   BURBANK 

This  was  one  of  my  first  efforts  in  producing  a 
good  shipping  plum;  even  better  shippers  have 
been  produced  on  my  grounds  and  are  shipped 
out  of  this  State  by  the  million  crates  annually. 

Under  the  head  of  saving  a  plant  from  its  own 
extravagance  might  well  come  the  large  subject 
of  bringing  trees  to  early  fruiting,  or  of  greatly 
shortening  the  period  from  seed  to  maturity  in 
shade  and  lumber  trees.  The  rapid-growing 
walnut,  and  pineapple  quince,  and  chestnut  seed- 
lings bearing  at  six  months  from  the  seed  stand 
forth  as  strong  encouragement  to  those  who 
would  take  up  this  line. 

And  there  is  the  broad  subject  of  adapting 
plants  to  special  localities.  The  hop  crop  of 
California,  the  cabbage  crop  near  Racine,  Wis- 
consin, the  celery  crop  near  Kalamazoo,  the  can- 
taloupe crop  at  Rocky  Ford  and  Imperial  Val- 
ley and  the  seed  farms  of  California — all  of  these 
bear  eloquent  testimony  to  the  profit  of  a  special- 
ty properly  introduced. 

Who  can  say  how  many  who  are  making  only 
a  living  out  of  corn  or  wheat,  simply  because 
they  are  in  corn  or  wheat  localities,  could  not  fit 
some  special  plant  to  their  thin  or  worn-out  soil? 

And  who,  seeing  that  some  forms  of  plant  life 
not  only  exist,  but  thrive,  under  the  most  adverse 
conditions,  shall  say  that  there  is  any  poor  land 


MARVELOUS    POSSIBILITIES    275 

anywhere?  Is  it  not  the  fact  that  poor  land 
often  means  that  the  plants  have  been  poorly 
chosen  for  it,  or  poorly  adapted  to  it? 

These  are  all  problems  which  will  be  treated 
in  their  proper  places,  and  which  offer  rich 
rewards  to  plant  improvers  of  skill  and  patience. 

So  far,  in  mentioning  some  of  these  opportu- 
nities for  plant  improvement,  we  have  referred 
only  to  the  betterment  of  plants  now  under  cul- 
tivation. 

When  we  remember  that  every  useful  plant 
which  now  grows  to  serve  us  was  once  a  wild 
plant,  and  when  we  begin  to  check  over  the 
list  of  those  wild  plants  which  have  not  yet 
been  improved,  the  possibilities  are  almost 
staggering. 

Not  all  plants,  of  course,  are  worth  working 
with — not  all  have  within  them  heredities  which 
could  profitably  be  brought  forth — combined  and 
intensified.  But,  as  a  safe  comparison,  it  might 
be  stated  that  the  proportion  between  present 
useful  plants  and  those  yet  wild  which  can  be 
made  useful,  is  at  least  as  great  as  or  greater 
than  the  proportion  between  the  coal  which  has 
already  been  mined  and  the  coal  which  is  still 
stored  in  the  ground. 

Greater,  by  probably  a  hundred  times,  for 
while  we  have  depleted  our  coal  supply,  our 


276  LUTHER    BURBANK 

plants  have  been  multiplying  not  only  in  num- 
ber, but  in  kind  and  in  form. 

Moreover,  from  our  wild  plants,  we  may  not 
only  obtain  new  products  but  new  vigor,  new 
hardiness,  new  adaptive  powers,  and  endless 
other  desirable  new  qualities  for  our  cultivated 
plants. 

All  of  these  things  are  as  immediate  in  possi- 
bilities and  consequences  as  transcontinental  rail- 
roads were  fifty  j^ears  ago.  All  can  be  made  to 
come  about  with  such  apparent  ease  that  future 
generations  will  take  them  as  a  matter  of  course. 

Yet  we  have  not  touched,  so  far,  on  the  most 
interesting  field  in  plant  improvement — the  pro- 
duction, through  crossing,  hybridizing,  and  selec- 
tion, of  wholly  new  plants  to  meet  entirely  new 
demands. 

Who  shall  produce  some  plant — and  there  are 
plenty  of  suggestions  toward  this  end — which 
shall  utilize  cheap  land  to  give  the  world  its  sup- 
ply of  wood  pulp  for  paper  making,  the  demand 
for  which  has  already  eaten  up  the  larger  part 
of  our  forests  and  is  fast  encroaching  on 
Canada's? 

Who  shall  say  that  within  twenty  years  there 
will  not  be  some  new  plant  better  than  flax, 
some  plant  which,  unlike  flax  for  this  purpose, 
can  be  grown  in  the  United  States,  to  supply  us 


MARVELOUS   POSSIBILITIES    277 

with  a  fabric  as  cheap  as  cotton,  but  as  fine  and 
durable  as  linen? 

Who  will  be  the  one  to  produce  a  plant  which 
shall  yield  us  cheaper  rubber — a  plant  growing, 
perhaps,  on  the  deserts,  which  shall  make  the  cost 
of  motor-car  tires  seem  only  an  insignificant  item 
in  upkeep? 

And  who,  on  those  same  deserts,  and  growing, 
perhaps,  side  by  side,  shall  perfect  a  plant  which 
can  be  transformed  into  cheap  alcohol  for  the 
motors  themselves  ? 

We  see  that  the  opportunities  for  plant  im- 
provement broadly  divide  themselves  into  four 
classes. 

First,  improving  the  quality  of  the  product  of 
existing  plants. 

Second,  saving  plants  from  their  own  extrav- 
agance, thereby  increasing  their  jaeld. 

Third,  fitting  plants  more  closely  to  specific 
conditions  of  soil,  climate,  and  locality. 

And  fourth,  transforming  "wald  plants  and 
developing  entirely  new  ones  to  take  care  of  new 
wants  which  are  growing  with  surprising  rapidity. 

The  cost  and  the  quality  of  everything  that  we 
eat  and  wear  depends  on  this  work  of  plant  im- 
provement. 

The  beefsteak  for  which  we  are  paying  an 
ever-increasing   price   represents,   after   all,    so 


278  LUTHER   BURBANK 

many  blades  of  grass,  so  much  grain,  or  per- 
haps, so  many  slabs  of  cactus;  while  the  pota- 
toes, lettuce,  and  coffee  which  go  with  it  come 
out  of  the  ground  direct. 

Our  clothing  is  from  cotton  or  flax,  or  perhaps 
a  sprinkling  of  wool,  or  from  the  mulberry  tree 
on  which  the  silkworm  feeds. 

Our  shoes  and  our  woolens,  like  our  steaks,  re- 
solve themselves  into  grass. 

The  mineral  kingdom  supplies  the  least  of 
our  needs;  and  the  animal  kingdom  is  wholly 
dependent  on  the  vegetable  kingdom. 

Who  can  predict  the  result  when  the  inventive 
genius  of  young  America  is  turned  toward  this, 
the  greatest  of  all  fields  of  invention,  as  it  is  now 
turned  toward  mechanics  and  electricity?  This 
important  line  of  effort  would  probably  have  been 
more  enticing  if  patents  could  be  obtained  for 
meritorious  plant  inventions,  but  so  far  no  pro- 
tection whatever  can  be  extended,  even  though 
the  new  self-repeating  products  were  worth,  as 
some  of  them  are,  a  thousand  million  dollars 
each. 


PIECING  THE  FRAGMENTS  OF 
A  MOTION-PICTURE  FILM 

We  Stop  to  Take  a  Backward  Glance 

WHEN  you  speak  of  environment  as  an 
active  influence,"  I  am  asked,  "do  you 
mean    the    soil,   the   rainfall   and    the 
climate  ?" 

Yes,  I  mean  these,  but  not  only  these ;  I  mean 
also  such  elements  of  environment  as  the  Union 
Pacific  Railroad. 
I  will  explain. 

Go  out  into  the  woods,  almost  anywhere  in 
the  United  States,  and  hunt  up  a  wild  plum 
tree,  and  you  will  find  that  it  bears  a  poor  lit- 
tle fruit  with  a  big  stone. 

The  only  purpose  which  the  wild  plum  has  in 
surrounding  its  seed  with  a  fruit  anyway  is  to 
attract  man  and  the  animals,  so  that  they  may 
carry  it  away  from  the  foot  of  the  parent  tree 
and  start  it  in  new  surroundings  for  the  good 
of  itself  and  offspring  in  the  race  for  life.     It 

279 


280  LUTHER    BURBANK 

takes  very  little  meat  and  very  little  in  the  way 
of  attractive  appearance  to  accomplish  this  pur- 
pose; and  besides,  the  wild  plum  has  to  put  so 
much  of  its  vitality  into  stone,  in  order  to  pro- 
tect the  seed  within  from  the  sharp  teeth  of  the 
animals  which  carry  it  away,  that  it  has  little 
energy  and  no  reasonable  object  left  for  devot- 
ing itself  to  still  further  enhanced  beauty  and 
flavor. 

Now,  take  the  same  wild  plum  after  it  has 
been  brought  under  cultivation  and  as  it  grows 
in  the  average  garden  and  you  will  find  a 
transformation — less  stone,  more  meat,  better 
flavor,  finer  aroma,  more  regular  shape,  brighter 
colors. 

This,  however,  represents  but  the  first  stage  in 
the  progress  of  the  plum;  with  all  this  improve- 
ment the  garden  plum  still  may  not  be  useful 
for  any  commercial  purpose,  because  people 
with  plum  trees  in  their  orchards  are  likely  to 
eat  the  fruit  off  the  tree,  or  to  give  it  to  their 
neighbors,  or  to  cook  and  preserve  it  as  soon  as 
ripe.  So  even  the  cultivated  garden  plum  may 
be  perfectly  satisfactory  for  its  purpose  without 
having  those  keeping  qualities  necessary  to  a 
commercial  fruit. 

And  this  is  the  point  at  which  the  Union 
Pacific  Railroad  entered  into  its  environment — 


A   BACKWARD    GLANCE        281 

at  least  into  the  environment  of  the  California 
plums. 

The  railroad  became  a  factor  in  plum  im- 
provement by  bringing  millions  of  plum-hungry 
Easterners  within  reach  by  affording  quick  and 
economical  shipping  facilities  where  there  had 
been  no  shipping  facilities  before. 

Much  as  the  time  of  transcontinental  travel 
was  reduced,  the  garden  plum  could  not  with- 
stand the  journey.  With  an  eager  market  as  an 
incentive,  however,  made  possible  through  the 
railroad,  we  began  to  select  plums  for  shipment, 
until  the  plum  graduated  from  its  garden  en- 
vironment and  became  the  basis  of  a  great  thriv- 
ing and  constantly  increasing  industry.  The 
railroad,  by  bringing  customers  within  reach  of 
those  who  had  plums  which  would  stand  ship- 
ment, and  charging  as  much  to  ship  poor  plums 
as  good  plums,  encouraged  selection  not  only  for 
shipping  plums,  but  toward  a  better  and  better 
quality  of  fruit  wliich  doubtless,  in  the  absence 
of  the  market  which  the  railroad  provided,  would 
never  have  been  produced. 

Thus  we  see  three  important  stages  in  the 
transformation  of  the  plum: 

First — the  wild  era. 

Second — the  garden  era. 

Third — the  orchard  and  railroad  era. 


282  LUTHER   BURBANK 

When  we  stop  to  think  of  it,  all  of  the  great 
improvements  in  plant  life  have  been  ^\T0ught 
within  the  railroad  era. 

Yet  our  plants  go  back,  who  knows  how  many- 
tens  of  thousands  of  generations? 

It  took  the  plum  tree  all  of  these  uncounted 
ages,  in  which  it  had  only  wild  environment,  to 
produce  the  poor  little  fruit  which  we  find  grow- 
ing in  the  woods. 

It  took  only  two  or  three  short  centuries  of 
care  and  half-hearted  selection  to  bring  about  the 
improvement  which  is  evidenced  in  the  common 
backyard  plum. 

And  it  took  less  than  a  generation,  after  the 
railroads  came,  to  work  all  of  the  real  wonders 
which  we  see  in  this  fruit  to-day. 

Up  to  two  or  three  human  generations  ago, 
the  plants,  with  their  start  of  tens  of  thousands 
of  generations,  were  abreast  of  or  ahead  of 
human  needs.  But  human  inventive  genius, 
going  ahead  hundreds  or  thousands  of  years  at 
a  jump,  bringing  with  it  organization  and  spe- 
cialization, has  changed  all  of  that. 

In  our  race  across  the  untracked  plains  before 
us  we  have  outrun  our  plants.  That  is  all.  And, 
having  outrun  them,  we  must  lend  a  hand  to 
bring  them  up  with  us  if  they  are  to  meet  our 
requirements. 


A   BACKWARD    GLANCE        283 

Shall  we  content  ourselves  with  watering  our 
plants  when  they  are  dry  and  enriching  the  soil 
when  it  is  worn  out?  Shall  we  be  satisfied  merely 
to  be  good  gardeners? 

Or  shall  we  study  the  living  forces  within  the 
plants  themselves  and  let  them  teach  us  how  to 
work  real  transformations? 

It  is  conceivable  that  a  manufacturer  of 
machinery  might  become  successful,  or  even  rise 
to  be  the  foremost  manufacturer  in  his  line,  with- 
out giving  a  moment  of  consideration  to  the 
atom  structure  of  the  iron  which  he  works — with 
never  a  thought  of  the  forces  which  nature  has 
employed  in  creating  the  substance  we  call  iron 
ore. 

It  is  conceivable  that  one  might  become  a  good 
cook — a  master  chef,  even — without  the  slightest 
reference  to,  or  knowledge  of,  the  stinictural  for- 
mation of  animal  and  vegetable  cells. 

Or  that  one  might  succeed  as  a  teacher  of  the 
young — might  become,  even,  a  nation-wide  au- 
thority on  molding  the  plastic  mind  of  youth — 
without  ever  being  assailed  by  the  thought  that 
the  forbears  of  the  nimble-minded  children  in  his 
care,  ages  and  ages  ago,  may  have  been  swinging 
from  tree  to  tree  by  their  tails. 

And  so,  in  most  occupations.  It  has  been  con- 
trived for  us  that  we  deal  only  with  present-day 


284  LUTHER   BURBANK 

facts  and  conditions — that  there  is  little  incen- 
tive, aside  from  general  interest  or  wandering 
curiosity,  to  try  to  lift  the  veil  which  obscures 
our  past — or  to  peer  through  the  fog  which 
keeps  us  from  seeing  what  to-morrow  has  in 
store. 

In  plant  growing,  more  than  in  an)'-  of  the 
world's  other  industries,  does  the  scheme  of  evo- 
lution and  a  working  knowledge  of  nature's 
methods  cease  to  be  a  theory — of  far-away  im- 
portance and  of  no  immediate  interest — and  be- 
come an  actual  working  factor,  a  necessary  tool, 
without  which  it  is  impossible  to  do  the  day's 
work. 

Whether  plant  improvement  be  taken  up  as  a 
science,  as  a  profession,  or  as  a  business — or 
whether  it  be  considered  merely  a  thing  of 
general  interest,  an  idle  hour  recreation — there 
is  ever  present  the  need  to  understand  nature's 
methods  and  her  forces  in  order  to  be  able  to 
make  use  of  them — to  guide  them — there  always 
stares  us  in  the  face  that  solitary  question : 

"Where — and  how — did  life  start?" 

We  have  seen  in  these  books  color  photo- 
graphs of  corn  as  it  may  have  grown  four  thou- 
sand years  ago,  perhaps. 

It  took  less  than  twelve  seasons  to  carry  this 
plant  backward  some  thousands  of  years. 


A   BACKWARD    GLANCE        285 

How  this  plant  was  first  taken  back  to  the 
stage  in  which  it  was  found  by  the  American 
Indians,  thus  revealing  the  methods  which  they 
crudely  used  to  improve  it — and  how  it  was 
taken  back  beyond  the  Pharaohs  and  then  back 
forty  centuries  before  the  time  of  man — how  we 
know  these  things  to  be  true — and  how,  as  a  result 
of  these  experiences  we  are  about  to  see  it  carried 
forward  by  several  centuries^ — all  of  these  things 
are  reserved  for  a  later  chapter  where  space  will 
permit  the  treatment  which  the  subject  deserves. 

The  illustration  is  cited  here  merely  as  one  of 
thousands,  typical  of  plant  improvement,  in 
which,  in  order  to  work  forward  a  little,  we  must 
think  backward  ages  and  ages. 

It  is  cited  here  to  show  that  what  is  merely  an 
interesting  theory  to  the  mass  of  the  world's 
workers  becomes  a  definite,  practical,  working 
necessity  to  the  man  or  woman  who  becomes 
interested  in  plant  improvement. 

It  is  cited  here  so  that  we  may  be  helped  to 
get  a  clearer  mind  picture  of  our  viewpoint — 
of  that  viewpoint  which,  after  all,  has  enabled 
us  to  become  a  leader  in  a  new  line,  the  founder 
of  a  new  art — instead  of  remaining  a  nursery- 
man or  gardener. 

In  my  viewpoint  there  is  little  that  is  new — 
little  that  has  not  been  discovered  by  others — ■ 


286  LUTHER   BURBANK 

little  that  has  not  been  accepted  by  scientists 
generally — little  that  requires  explanation  to 
those  who  simply  see  the  same  things  that  I 
have  seen. 

I  have  no  new  theorj'-  of  evolution  to  offer — 
perhaps  only  a  few  details  to  add  to  the  theories 
which  have  already  been  worked  out  by  men  of 
science. 

And  I  make  these  observations  and  conclu- 
sions of  mine  a  part  of  this  work  for  two  reasons : 

First,  because  they  are  products  not  of  imag- 
ination, reasoning,  or  any  mental  process — but 
the  practical  observations  and  conclusions  which 
have  gained  force  and  proof,  year  by  year,  in  a 
lifetime  of  experience  with  plants — throughout 
fiftj''  years  of  continuous  devotion  to  the  subject, 
during  which  time  I  have  tried  more  than  one 
hundred  thousand  separate  experiments  on  plant 
life;  and,  as  such,  represent  an  important  phase 
of  my  life. 

Second,  because  an  ever-present  interest  in 
evolution — an  ever-eager  mind  to  peer  backward 
and  forward — is  essential  not  only  in  the  prac- 
tice of  plant  improvement,  but  even  to  the  barest 
understanding  of  it. 

To  gain  the  first  quick  glimpse,  let  us  liken 
the  process  of  evolution  to  a  moving  picture  as 
it  is  thrown  on  the  screen. 


A   BACKWARD    GLANCE        287 

Imagine,  for  example,  that  some  all-seeing 
camera  had  made  a  snapshot  of  nature's  progress 
each  hundred  years  from  the  time  when  plant 
life  started  in  our  world  to  the  present  day. 

Imagine  that  these  progressive  snapshots 
were  joined  together  in  a  motion  picture  reel, 
and  thrown  in  quick  succession  upon  a  screen. 

We  should  see,  no  doubt,  as  the  picture  began 
to  move,  a  tiny  living  being,  a  simple  cell,  the 
chemical  product,  perhaps,  of  warm  brackish 
water — so  small  that  900  of  them  would  have  to 
be  assembled  together  to  make  a  speck  large 
enough  for  our  human  eyes  to  see. 

As  snapshot  succeeded  snapshot  we  should 
see  that  two  of  these  microscopic  simple  cells  in 
some  way  or  other  formed  a  partnership — prob- 
ably finding  it  easier  to  fight  the  elements  of 
destruction  in  alliance  than  alone. 

We  should  see,  bej^ond  doubt,  that  these  part- 
nerships joined  other  partnerships,  and  as 
partnership  joined  partnership,  and  group 
joined  group,  these  amalgamations  began  to  have 
an  object  beyond  mere  defense — that  they  began 
to  organize  for  their  own  improvement,  comfort, 
well-being,  or  whatever  was  their  guiding  object. 

We  should  see  that,  whereas  each  simple  cell 
had  within  it  all  of  the  powers  necessary  to  live 
its  life  in  its  own  crude  way,  yet  with  the  amal- 


288  LUTHER    BURBANK 

gamation  of  the  cells  there  came  organization, 
development,  improvement. 

Some  of  the  cells  in  each  amalgamation,  let 
us  say,  specialize  on  seeing,  some  on  locomotion, 
some  on  digestion. 

Thus,  while  each  simple  cell  had  all  of  these 
powers  in  a  limited  way,  yet  the  new  creature, 
as  a  result  of  specialization,  could  see  better, 
move  more  readily,  digest  more  easily,  than  the 
separate  elements  which  went  into  it. 

And  so,  through  the  early  pictures  of  our  reel, 
there  would  be  spread  before  us  the  development 
of  the  little  simple  cell  into  more  and  more 
complex  forms  of  life — first  vegetable,  then  half 
vegetable-animal — into  everything,  finally,  that 
lives  and  grows  about  us  to-day — into  us, 
ourselves. 

In  an  actual  motion  picture  as  it  is  thrown 
on  the  screen,  it  is  only  the  quick  progressive 
succession  of  the  pictures  that  makes  us  realize 
the  sense  of  motion. 

If  we  were  to  detach  and  examine  a  single 
film  from  the  reel,  it  would  show  no  movement. 
It  would  be  as  stationary  and  as  fixed  as  a  child's 
first  kodak  snapshot. 

In  the  motion  picture  of  nature's  evolution, 
the  world,  as  we  see  it  about  us  in  our  lifetime, 
represents  but  a  single  snapshot,  detached  from 


A   BACKWARD    GLANCE        289 

those  which  have  preceded  it  and  from  those 
which  are  to  succeed  it. 

And  so,  some  of  us — too  many  of  us — not 
confronted  with  the  same  necessity  which  irre- 
sistibly leads  the  plant  student  into  the  study  of 
these  forces — viewing  only  the  single,  apparently 
unmoving  picture  before  us,  have  concluded 
that  there  is  no  forward  motion — that  there 
has  been  no  evolution — that  there  will  be 
none. 

The  plant  student,  above  all  others,  has  the 
greatest  facilities  at  his  hand  for  observing  not 
only  the  details  of  the  picture  which  is  now  on 
the  screen — but  for  gaining  glimpses — frag- 
mentary glimpses — of  pictures  which  have  pre- 
ceded— of  piecing  these  together — and  of  real- 
izing that  all  that  we  have  and  are  and  will  be 
must  be  a  part  of  this  slow,  sure,  forward-moving 
change  that  unfailingly  traces  itself  back  to  the 
little  simple  cell. 

As  we  go  further  and  further  into  the  work 
we  shall  begin  to  see  the  film  fragments  which  to 
workers  in  other  lines  are  obscured,  unnoticed, 
unknown. 

We  shall  be  able  to  observe  details  of  the 
process — carried  home  to  us  with  undeniable 
conviction — indisputable  to  any  man  who  be- 
lieves what  he  actually  sees  —  which  will  give 

Vol.  1 — Bur.  J 


290  LUTHER   BURBANK 

us  a  realistic  view  of  the  whole  motion  picture 
which  to  the  world  at  large  has  always  been 
denied. 

We  shall  find  that,  dealing  thus  with  nature's 
forces  at  first  hand,  our  work  will  inspire  an 
interest  beyond  even  the  interest  of  creating  new 
forms  of  life. 

And,  as  our  work  unfolds,  the  side  lights  which 
we  shall  see  will  clear  up  many  or  most  of  the 
doubts  which  are  likely  to  take  possession  of  us 
at  the  outset. 

It  may  be  well  at  this  point,  however,  to 
take  space  to  refer  to  the  single  question  most 
frequently  asked  by  thousands  of  intelli- 
gent men  and  women  who  have  been  visitors 
here. 

This  question,  differing  in  form,  as  the  indi- 
vidualities of  the  questioners  differ,  usually  runs 
like  this: 

"If  we  are  descendants  of  monkeys,  why  are 
not  the  monkeys  turning  into  men  to-day?" 

Let  us  learn  the  answer  to  this  question  by 
turning  to  the  golden-yellow  California  poppy, 
so-called,  and  the  other  entirely  new  poppies 
which  we  have  produced  from  it. 

In  order  to  make  clear  the  truth  which  the 
poppies  prove,  it  is  necessary  to  explain  the  suc- 
cessive steps  of  the  operation. 


A   BACKWARD    GLANCE        291 

A  few  thousand  of  the  wild  golden-yellow 
poppies  such  as  cover  California's  hills  were 
examined. 

The  individuals  of  these  resembled  one  another 
as  closely  as  one  rose  resembles  another  rose  on 
the  same  bush,  or  as  one  grape  resembles  another 
on  the  same  bunch,  as  one  pea  resembles  another 
in  the  same  pod. 

Yet  among  those  million  poppies — all  looking 
alike  to  the  unpracticed  eye — there  could  be 
found  by  a  close  observer  nearly  as  many  indi- 
vidual differences  as  could  be  found  among  as 
many  human  beings. 

Among  those  million  poppies,  each  with  its 
distinct  individuality,  one  was  found  which  had 
a  slight  tendency  to  break  away  from  the  Cali- 
fornia poppy  family  and  start  a  separate  race 
of  its  own. 

This  same  tendency  could  be  observed  among 
a  million  men,  a  million  roses,  a  million  peas,  a 
million  quartz  crystals,  or  a  million  of  any  of 
nature's  creations. 

Those  one,  or  two,  or  three  out  of  every  million 
with  tendencies  to  break  away  are  sometimes 
called  the  freaks  or  "sports"  of  the  species. 

It  seems  as  though  nature,  never  quite  satis- 
fied with  her  creations,  is  always  experimenting, 
with  the  hope  of  creating  a  better  result — yet 


292  LUTHER   BURBANK 

limiting  those  experiments  to  such  a  small  per- 
centage that  the  mass  of  the  race  remains  un- 
changed— its  characteristics  preserved — its  gen- 
eral tendencies  unaffected. 

The  California  poppy,  as  it  grows  wild,  is  a 
rich  golden  yellow.  In  spite  of  individual  dif- 
ferences, this  color  is  the  general  characteristic 
of  the  kind.  It  is  a  fixed  characteristic,  dating 
back  at  least  to  the  time  when  California,  because 
of  the  poppy-covered  hills,  received  its  name — 
the  land  of  fire — from  the  early  Spanish  navi- 
gators that  ventured  up  and  down  the  coast. 

Out  of  the  billions  of  wild  poppies  that  have 
grown,  each  million  has  no  doubt  contained  its 
freaks  or  its  "sports" — its  few  experimental  in- 
dividuals which  nature  has  given  the  tendency  to 
break  away  from  the  characteristics  of  their 
fellows. 

Yet  in  the  history  of  the  California  poppy 
family,  as  far  back  as  we  can  trace,  none  of  these 
freaks  or  "sports"  has  ever  achieved  its  object. 

Among  the  "sports"  which  we  found  in  the 
million  poppies  was  one  with  a  slight  streak  of 
crimson  on  one  petal ;  one  or  two  with  a  tendency 
toward  white  and  one  with  a  lemon-yellow 
color. 

Without  the  intervention  of  man,  these  freaks 
quite  likely  would  have  perished  without  off- 


A   BACKWARD    GLANCE        293 

spring,  being  submerged  by  those  having  the 
usual  fixed  tendency. 

But  by  separating  them  and  saving  their  seeds, 
within  a  few  brief  seasons  we  were  able  to 
produce  three  new  kinds  of  the  California  poppy. 

Each  kind  had  all  of  the  parent  poppy  charac- 
teristics but  one.  They  were  California  poppies 
in  habits,  growth,  shape,  form,  grace,  texture, 
and  beauty. 

Yet  in  color  they  differed  from  the  California 
wild  poppy  almost  as  a  violet  differs  from  a 
daisy. 

One  of  these  freaks  developed  into  a  solid 
crimson  poppy,  another  into  the  pure  white 
poppy,  and  still  another  into  the  fire-flame  poppy 
— all  now  well  known. 

The  details  of  method  employed  and  the  appli- 
cation of  these  methods  and  the  miderlying 
principles  to  the  improvement  of  other  flowers, 
fruits,  trees,  and  useful  and  ornamental  plants, 
will  be  left  for  later  chapters.  But,  as  an  illus- 
tration, this  poppy  experiment  brings  three  facts 
to  view. 

First,  that  nature  creates  no  absolute  dupli- 
cates. 

Second,  that  although  each  of  nature's  cre- 
ations has  its  own  distinctive  individuality,  all 
the  time  she  takes  special  precautions  to  fix,  pre- 


WHITE   AND   CRIMSON    SIDE 
BY    SIDE 

The  poppy  still  retains  many  of  its 
wild  characteristics:,  particularly  the 
production  of  great  quantities  of  seed. 
Seeds  from  my  experiments  have  been 
scattered  over  the  gi'ounds  so  that  pop- 
pies are  likely  to  spring  up  at  any 
point.  In  this  direct-color  photograph 
print  the  white  California  poppy  and 
its  new  crimson  cousin  are  seen  grow- 
ing wild  side  by  side. 


A   BACKWARD    GLANCE        295 

serve,  and  make  permanent  the  characteristics 
of  each  of  her  races  or  kinds  best  suited  to  their 
environment. 

Third,  that  there  is  always  present  in  all  of 
her  creations  the  experimental  tendency  to  break 
away  from  fixed  characteristics — to  start  new 
races — to  branch  out  into  entirely  new  forms  of 
development.  Through  our  intervention  in  the 
case  of  the  poppy,  this  tendency  was  crowned 
with  success;  in  ten  thousand  years,  perhaps, 
without  intervention,  the  same  result  might  pos- 
sibly have  occurred. 

From  the  fern  at  the  water's  edge  to  the  apple 
tree  which  bears  us  luscious  fruit — from  the 
oyster  that  lies  helpless  in  the  bottom  of  Long 
Island  Sound  to  the  hum.an  being  who  rakes  it 
up  and  eats  it — every  different  form  of  life 
about  us  may  thus  be  traced  to  the  experiments 
which  nature  is  continually  bringing  forth  in 
order  to  better  adapt  her  creations  to  their 
environment. 

As  to  the  question  so  often  asked,  monkeys 
are  no  more  turning  into  men  than  golden-yellow 
poppies  are  turning  into  crimson,  white  or  fire- 
flame  poppies. 

In  monkeys,  as  in  men  and  poppies — and 
quartz  crystals — there  is  ever  present  the  tend- 
ency to  break  away  from  the  kind,  yet  nature 


296  LUTHER   BURBANK 

is  always  alert  to  prevent  the  break — unless  it 
demonstrates  itself  to  be  an  advance,  an  improve- 
ment— from  occurring. 

She  gives  us,  all  of  us,  and  everything — indi- 
viduality, personality — unfailingly,  always — at 
the  same  time  preserving  in  each  the  general 
characteristics  of  its  kind. 

Yet  all  the  time  she  is  creating  her  freaks  and 
"sports" — all  the  time  she  is  trying  new  experi- 
ments— most  of  them  doomed  to  die  unproduc- 
tive— with  the  hope  that  the  dozen  freaks  among 
a  billion  creations  may  show  the  way  toward  a 
single  adaptive  improvement  in  a  race. 

In  this  hurried  backward  glance  we  have  bj?" 
no  means  gone  back  to  the  beginning  of  things. 
Even  the  moving  picture  of  nature's  course  from 
the  warm  water  cell  to  us,  covering  what  seems 
an  infinity  of  time,  may  be  but  a  single  stationary 
film  in  a  still  greater  moving  picture — and  that, 
too,  but  a  part  of  a  greater  whole. 

Indeed,  the  further  we  go  into  our  subject, 
the  more  we  are  convinced  that  instead  of  having 
followed  the  thread  of  life  to  its  beginning,  we 
have  merely  been  following  a  raveling  which 
leads  into  one  of  its  tiny  strands. 

The  more  we  learn  definitely  about  the  process 
which  we  trace  back  to  the  simple  cell,  the  more 
we  are  led  to  inquire  into  those  other  forms  of 


A   BACKWARD    GLANCE        297 

energy — into  the  chemical  reactions — into  the 
vibrations  which  manifest  themselves  to  us  as 
sound,  heat,  light — into  electricity  and  those 
manifestations  whose  discovery  is  more  recent, 
and  whose  nature  is  less  well  understood. 

The  more  we  observe  the  phenomena  in  our 
own  fields  of  activity,  the  more  we  realize  the 
futility  of  trying,  in  a  single  lifetime,  to  explore 
infinity. 

The  more  content  we  feel,  instead,  to  learn 
as  much  as  we  can  that  is  useful  and  prac- 
tical of  the  single  strand  of  life's  thread  which 
has  to  do  more  immediately  with  the  thing  in 
hand. 

"What  do  you  put  into  the  soil  to  make  your 
cannas  so  fine?" 

"How  often  do  you  take  up  the  bulbs  of  your 
gladioli?"  \ 

"How  late  do  you  keep  your  tender  plants 
under  glass?" 

These,  and  a  hundred  others  of  their  kind,  are 
the  questions  which  visitors  at  the  experiment 
farm  are  continually  asking. 

It  is  not  that  we  do  not  appreciate  the  impor- 
tance of  cultivation. 

But  the  questioners  fail  to  realize  that  our 
work  has  been  with  the  insides  of  plants  and  not 
with  the  extei'nals. 


298  LUTHER  BURBANK 

Of  the  details  of  working  method — of  the  little 
plans  that  save  time — of  the  bold  innovations 
which  many  may  have  dreamed,  but  none  have 
ever  dared  to  do;  of  these,  in  the  volumes  to 
come,  we  shall  find  plenty. 

And  we  shall  find  ourselves  searching  the 
times  when  things  were  not  as  they  are,  in  order 
to  obtain  glimpses  of  things  as  they  are  to  be — 
and  all,  not  from  the  standpoint  of  theory,  but 
merely  to  help  us  in  the  very  practical,  the  very 
useful  work  of  developing  by  natural  methods 
new  forms  of  plant  life — better  forms  than  she 
would  produce  for  us  unaided — plants  which  be- 
cause of  their  greater  productivity  will  help  us 
lower  our  constantly  increasing  cost  of  living — 
plants  which  will  yield  us  entirely  new  sub- 
stances to  be  used  in  manufactures — plants 
which  will  grow  on  what  now  are  waste  places 
— plants  which,  by  their  better  fruit,  or  their 
increased  beauty,  or  their  doubled  yield,  or  their 
improved  quality,  will  add  to  our  individual 
pleasures  and  profits  and  to  the  pleasure  and 
profits  of  the  whole  world. 


In  order  to  work  forward  a  little, 
wj  mmt  look  backward  through 
the  ages. 


THE  SHASTA  DAISY 

How  A   Troubm:some  Weed   Was   Remade 
Into  a  Beautiful  Flower 

HAVING,  now,  a  broad  general  under- 
standing of  the  work — of  the  underlying 
principles,  of  the  methods  involved,  and 
of  the  possibilities — ^let  us  see  just  how  several 
striking  transformations  have  been  accom- 
plished. 

There  are  many  of  these  productions  which 
may  be  rated  as  much  more  important  to  the 
world  than  those  described;  but  these  have  been 
selected  because  they  reflect,  better  than  others, 
the  various  ways  in  which  methods  have  been 
combined  to  produce  final,  fixed  results;  thus 
serving  to  give  the  reader  a  complete  exposition 
of  working  detail  in  the  smallest  possible  space. 

We  have  given,  for  the  first  time,  the  exact 
steps  which  we  took  in  producing  a  number  of 
widely  different  plant  transformations;  together 
with  some  observations  on  life — ^plant,  animal, 
and  human. 

299 


300  LUTHER   BURBANK 

"White  is  white,"  said  one  of  my  gardeners, 
"and  all  these  daisies  are  white.  They  all  look 
just  the  same  color  to  me.  No  one  of  them  is 
pure  white,  but  there  is  one  that  is  nearer  white 
than  the  rest." 

All  the  other  gardeners  agreed  with  the  first 
one,  and  it  was  some  time  before  a  visitor  came 
who  was  not  of  the  same  opinion.  Person  after 
person  was  questioned,  and  each  one  declared 
that  all  the  daisies  in  the  row  seemed  to  be  pure 
white  in  color.  No  one  could  discriminate  be- 
tween them. 

But  one  day  a  well  known  artist  visited  the 
garden,  and  when  she  was  shown  the  row  of 
daisies  and  asked  about  their  color,  she  answered 
instantly  that  there  was  one  much  whiter  than  all 
the  rest ;  and  to  my  own  satisfaction  she  indicated 
the  one  that  all  along  had  seemed  to  be  whiter 
than  the  others.  There  was  no  question,  then, 
that  this  plant  bore  flowers  nearer  to  purity  in 
whiteness  than  any  others  of  all  the  thousands 
of  daisies  in  the  field. 

Needless  to  say  that  particular  plant  had  been 
selected  for  use  in  future  experiments,  for  the 
ideal  in  mind  was  a  daisy  that  would  be  of  the 
purest  imaginable  white  in  color.  How  the  ideal 
was  achieved — after  years  of  effort — will  appear 
in  due  course. 


THE    SHASTA   DAISY  301 

The  daisies  in  question,  of  which  the  plant 
bearing  the  nearly  white  flowers  was  the  best 
example,  had  been  produced  by  several  years  of 
experimentation  which  had  commenced  with  the 
cultivation  of  the  common  roadside  weed  famil- 
iar to  everyone  in  the  East  as  the  oxeye  daisy, 
and  known  to  the  botanist  as  Chrysantliemum 
leucantliemum.  This  plant,  which  grows  in 
such  profusion  throughout  the  East  as  to  be 
considered  a  pest  by  the  farmer,  was  not  to 
be  found  in  California  until  these  experiments 
were  begun. 

My  admiration  for  the  plant  was  chiefly  as  a 
souvenir  of  boyhood  days.  But  I  soon  con- 
ceived the  idea  of  bettering  it,  for  it  had  certain 
qualities  that  seemed  to  suggest  undeveloped 
possibilities. 

In  the  countryside  of  New  England,  the 
oxeye,  as  everyone  knows,  is  a  very  hardy 
plant  and  a  persistent  bloomer.  Its  very 
abundance  has  denied  it  general  recognition, 
yet  it  is  not  without  its  claims  to  beauty. 
But  it  did  not  greatly  improve  or  very 
notably  change  its  appearance  during  the 
first  few  seasons  of  its  cultivation  in  Cali- 
fornia; nor  indeed  until  after  I  had  given  it 
a  new  impetus  by  hybridizing  it  with  an  allied 
species. 


THE    SHASTA   DAISY 

The  Shasta  Dais?/  (Chrysanthemum 
hyhridum)  is  probably  the  most  popu- 
lar flower  introduced  during  the  past 
century.  It  is  grown  in  all  parts  of  the 
earth  and  yields  its  graceful,  snow- 
white  blossoms  in  abundance  with  little 
care  or  culture.  Everybody  now  knows 
the  Shasta  Daisy.  It  has  taken  on 
many  interesting  new  forms  of  late. 


THE    SHASTA   DAISY  303 

Mating  the  Oxeyes 

The  plant  with  which  the  cross  was  made  was 
a  much  larger  and  more  robust  species  of  daisy 
imported  from  Europe,  where  it  is  known  collo- 
quially as  the  Michaelmas  daisy,  although  the 
botanist  gives  it  a  distinct  name,  in  recognition 
of  its  dissimilar  appearance,  calling  it  Chrysan- 
themum maximum.  There  is  also  a  Continental 
daisy,  by  some  botanists  considered  as  a  distinct 
species  and  named  Chrysanthemum  lacustre, 
which  is  closely  similar  to  the  British  species, 
and  of  this  seeds  were  secured  from  a  German 
firm. 

Both  these  plants  have  larger  flowers  than  the 
American  daisy,  but  are  far  inferior  to  it  in  grace 
of  form  and  especially  abundance  of  bloom. 
The  plants  have  a  coarse,  weedy  appearance, 
with  numerous  unsightly  leaves  upon  their 
flower  stalks,  whereas  the  stalk  of  the  American 
daisy  is  usually  leafless. 

Notwithstanding  the  rather  coarse  appear- 
ance of  the  European  oxeyes,  I  determined  to 
hybridize  them  with  the  American  species,  in  the 
expectation  of  producing  a  plant  that  would 
combine  the  larger  flowers  of  the  European  with 
the  grace,  abundant  flowers,  and  early  blooming 
qualities  of  the  American  daisy.    The  cross  was 


304  LUTHER  BURBANK 

first  made  with  the  English  daisy,  C.  maximum, 
by  taking  pollen  from  this  flower  to  fertilize  the 
best  specimens  of  the  American  daisy  that  I  had 
hitherto  been  able  to  produce. 

When  the  seeds  thus  produced  were  sown  next 
season  and  the  plants  came  to  blooming  time,  it 
was  at  once  evident  that  there  was  marked 
improvement.  Some  of  the  flowers  appeared 
earlier  even  than  those  of  the  American  daisy; 
they  were  very  numerous,  and  were  larger  in  size 
than  the  flowers  of  either  parent.  But  all  the 
flowers  had  a  yellowish  tinge,  unnoticed  by  the 
average  observer,  but  visible  to  a  sharp  eye  on 
close  inspection.  And  this  tendency  to  a  green- 
ish yellowness  in  color  was  not  at  all  to  my  liking. 

Further  improvement  was  attempted  by  cross- 
ing the  hybrid  plant  with  the  German  daisy  just 
referred  to.  A  slight  improvement  was  noticed, 
but  the  changes  were  not  very  marked. 

By  selecting  the  best  specimens  of  the  hybrid, 
which  now  had  a  triple  parentage,  I  had  secured, 
in  the  course  of  five  or  six  years,  a  daisy  which 
was  very  obviously  superior  to  any  one  of  the 
original  forms  as  to  size  and  beauty  of  flower, 
and  fully  the  equal  of  any  of  them  in  ruggedness 
and  prolific  blooming. 

But  the  flowers  were  still  disappointing  in  that 
they   lacked   that   quality   of   crystal   whiteness 


THE    SHASTA   DAISY  305 

which  was  to  be  one  of  the  chief  charms  of 
my  ideal  daisy.  So  year  by  year  the  rows  of 
daisies  were  inspected  in  quest  of  a  plant  bearing 
blooms  whiter  than  the  rest;  and  seeds  were 
selected  only  from  the  prize  plants. 

The  daisy  spreads  constantly,  and  one  clmnp 
will,  if  carefully  divided,  presently  supply  a 
garden.  But  of  course  each  plant  grown  from 
the  same  plant  is  precisely  like  the  parent,  and 
wliile  a  large  number  of  daisies  were  secured 
that  combined  approximate  whiteness  with  all 
the  other  good  qualities  sought,  yet  the  purest  of 
them  all  did  not  appear  to  be  unqualifiedly 
white. 

And  when  my  own  judgment  was  confirmed 
by  the  decision  of  the  artist,  the  determination 
was  made  to  seek  some  new  method  of  further 
improvement  that  should  erase  the  last  trace  of 
offending  shade. 

As  a  means  to  achieve  this  end,  I  learned  of 
another,  the  Asiatic  daisy  known  to  the  botanist 
as  Chrysanthemum  nipjwnicum;  and  presently 
obtained  the  seed  of  this  plant  from  Japan. 

Aid  from  Japan 

This  Japanese  daisy  was  in  most  respects  in- 
ferior to  the  original  American  oxeye  with 
which  these  experiments  had  started.     It  is  a 


306  LUTHER   BURBANK 

rather  coarse  plant,  with  objectionable  leafy 
stalk,  and  a  flower  so  small  and  inconspicuous 
that  it  would  attract  little  attention  and  would 
scarcely  be  regarded  by  anyone  as  a  desirable 
acquisition  for  the  garden.  But  the  flower  had 
one  quality  that  appealed  to  me — it  was  pure 
white. 

Needless  to  say,  no  time  was  lost,  once  these 
plants  were  in  bloom,  in  crossing  the  best  of  the 
hybrid  daisies  with  pollen  from  the  flowers  of 
their  Japanese  cousin. 

The  first  results  were  not  wholly  reassuring. 
But  in  a  subsequent  season,  among  innumerable 
seedlings  from  this  union,  one  was  found  at  last 
with  flowers  as  beautifully  white  as  those  of  the 
Japanese,  and  larger  than  the  largest  of  those 
that  the  hybrid  plants  had  hitherto  produced. 
JNIoreover  the  plant  on  which  this  flower  grew 
revealed  the  gracefulness  of  the  American  plant, 
and  in  due  course  was  shown  to  have  the  hardy 
vigor  of  all  the  other  species. 

From  this  remarkable  plant,  with  its  combined 
heritage  of  four  ancestral  strains  from  three 
continents,  thousands  of  seedlings  were  raised 
each  year  for  the  five  or  six  ensuing  seasons,  the 
best  individuals  being  selected  and  the  others 
destroyed  according  to  my  custom,  until  at  last 
the  really  wonderful  flower  that  has  since  become 


THE    SHASTA   DAISY  307 

known  to  the  whole  world  as  the  Shasta  Daisy 
was  produced. 

Moreover  I  had  a  flower  that  excelled  my 
utmost  expectations  as  to  size,  grace  and  abun- 
dant blooming  qualities;  a  blossom  from  four  to 
seven  inches  in  diameter,  with  a  greatly  increased 
number  of  ray  flowers  of  crj^'stal  whiteness,  and 
with  flower  stem  tall  and  devoid  of  vmsightly 
leaves ;  a  plant  at  once  graceful  enough  to  please 
the  eye  and  hardy  enough  to  thrive  in  any  soil; 
a  plant  moreover  of  such  thrifty  growth  that  it 
reached  its  blooming  time  in  its  first  season  from 
seed,  although  none  of  its  ancestors  bloomed 
until  the  second  season;  and  of  such  quality  of 
prolificness  that  it  continues  to  bloom  almost 
throughout  the  year  in  California,  and  for  a  long 
season  even  in  colder  climates. 

Conflicting  Tendencies 

The  Shasta  Daisy,  sprung  thus  magically— 
yet  not  without  years  of  coaxing — from  this 
curiously  mixed  ancestry,  exceeded  my  utmost 
expectations  in  its  combination  of  desirable 
qualities.  I  can  hardly  say,  however,  that  the 
result  achieved  was  a  surprise;  for  my  experi- 
ence with  hundreds  of  other  species  had  led  me  to 
anticipate,  at  least  in  a  general  way,  the  trans- 
formations that  might  be  effected  through  such 


THE  SHASTA  DAISY  AND  TWO 
OF    ITS    RELATIVES 

The  upper  flower  is  a  form  of  the 
Shasta  Daisy  slightly  different  from 
that  shown  on  a  preceding  page.  At 
the  left  is  shown  a  newer  double  form, 
and  at  the  right  its  New  England 
parent,  all  reduced  one-half. 


THE   SHASTA'  DAISY  309 

a  mingling  of  different  ancestral  istralns  as  had 
been  brought  about. 

There  was  every  reason  to  expect,  while 
hybridizing  the  American  and  European  ox- 
eyes,  that  a  plant  would  ultimately  be  produced 
that  would  combine  in  various  degrees  all  the 
qualities  of  each  parent  form.  By  selecting  for 
preservation  only  those  that  combined  the  de- 
sirable qualities  and  destroying  those  that  re- 
vealed the  undesirable  ones,  a  fixed,  persistent 
hybrid  race  that  very  obviously  excelled  either 
one  of  its  parent  forms  was  produced. 

Nor  is  there,  perhaps,  anything  very  mystify- 
ing about  this  result,  for  the  simpler  facts  of  the 
hereditary  transmission  of  ancestral  traits  are 
now  matters  of  common  knowledge  and  of  every- 
day observation. 

No  one  is  surprised  for  example,  to  see  a  child 
that  resembles  one  parent  as  to  stature,  let  us 
say,  and  the  other  as  to  color  of  hair  and  eyes. 

So  a  hybrid  daisy  combining  in  full  measure 
the  best  qualities  of  the  European  and  the  Amer- 
ican oxeyes,  as  did  my  first  hybrid  race,  perhaps 
does  not  seem  an  anomalous  product,  although 
certainly  not  without  interest,  in  view  of  the 
fact  that  its  parent  stocks  are  regarded  by  many 
botanists  as  constituting  at  least  two  distinct 
species. 


310  LUTHER  BURBANK 

But  the  final  cross,  in  which  the  Japanese 
plant  with  its  small  flowers,  inferior  in  every- 
thing except  lack  of  color,  was  brought  into  the 
coalition,  calls  for  explanation.  A  general  im- 
pression has  long  prevailed  that  a  hybrid  race 
whether  of  animals  or  of  plants  is  likely  to  be 
more  or  less  intermediate  between  the  parent 
races ;  so  perhaps  the  common  expectation  would 
have  been  that  the  cross  between  the  new  hybrid 
race  of  daisies  and  the  obscure  Japanese  plant 
would  result  in  a  hybrid  with  medium-sized 
flowers  at  best,  and,  except  possibly  in  the  matter 
of  whiteness  of  blossom,  an  all  round  inferiority 
to  the  best  plants  that  I  had  developed. 

But,  in  reality,  there  appeared  the  beautiful 
mammoth  Shasta,  superlative  in  all  its  qualities, 
surpassing  in  every  respect  each  and  all  of  the 
four  parent  stocks  from  which  it  sprang. 

This  apparently  paradoxical  result  calls  for 
explanation.  The  explanation  is  found,  so  far 
as  we  can  explain  the  mysteries  of  life  processes 
at  all,  in  the  fact  that  by  bringing  together  racial 
strains  differing  so  widely  a  result  is  produced 
that  may  be  described  as  a  conflict  of  hereditary 
tendencies.  And  out  of  this  conflict  comes  a 
great  tendency  to  variation. 

The  reasons  for  this  are  relatively  simple. 
Heredity,  after  all,  may  be  described  as  the  sum 


THE    SHASTA   DAISY  311 

of  past  environments.  The  traits  and  tendencies 
that  we  transmit  to  our  children  are  traits  and 
tendencies  that  have  been  built  into  the  organ- 
isms of  our  ancestors  through  their  age-long 
contact  with  varying  environmental  conditions. 

The  American  oxeye  daisy,  through  long  gen- 
erations of  growth  imder  the  specific  climatic 
conditions  of  New  England,  had  developed 
certain  traits  that  peculiarly  adapted  it  to  life 
in  that  region. 

Similarly  the  European  daisy  had  developed 
a  different  set  of  traits  under  the  diverse  condi- 
tions of  soil  and  climate  of  Europe. 

And  in  the  third  place,  the  Japanese  daisy  had 
developed  yet  more  divergent  traits  under  the 
conditions  of  life  in  far  away  Japan,  because 
these  conditions  were  not  only  more  widely  dif- 
ferent from  the  conditions  of  Europe  and 
America  than  these  are  from  each  other,  but 
also  because  the  Japanese  plant  came  of  a  race 
that  had  in  all  probability  separated  from  the 
original  parent  stock  of  all  the  daisies  at  a  time 
much  more  remote  than  the  time  at  which  the 
European  and  American  daisies  were  separated. 

The  Plant  as  a  Camera 

To  make  the  meaning  of  this  quite  clear,  we 
must  recall  that  a  given  organism — say  in  this 


312  LUTHER  BURBANK 

case  a  given  stock  of  daisies — is  at  all  times  sub- 
ject to  the  unceasing  influence  of  the  conditions 
of  life  in  the  midst  of  which  it  exists.  The  whole 
series  of  influences  which  we  describe  as  the  envi- 
ronment is  perpetually  stamping  its  imprint  on 
the  organism  somewhat  as  the  vibrations  of  light 
stamp  their  influence  on  a  photographic  plate. 

Indeed,  as  I  conceive  it,  the  plant  is  in  effect  a 
photographic  plate  which  is  constantly  receiving 
impressions  from  the  environing  world. 

And  the  traits  and  tendencies  of  the  plant  that 
are  developed  in  response  to  these  impinging 
forces  of  the  environment  are  further  compara- 
ble to  the  image  of  the  photographic  plate  in  that 
they  have  a  greater  or  less  degree  of  perma- 
nency according  to  the  length  of  time  during 
which  they  were  exposed  to  the  image- forming 
conditions. 

If  you  expose  a  photographic  plate  in  a  mod- 
erately dim  light,  let  us  say,  for  the  thousandth 
part  of  a  second,  you  secure  only  a  very  thin 
and  vague  negative.  But  if,  without  shifting  the 
scene  or  the  focus  of  the  camera,  you  repeat 
the  exposure  again  and  again,  each  time  for  only 
the  thousandth  of  a  second,  you  will  ultimately 
pile  up  on  the  negative  a  succession  of  impres- 
sions, each  like  all  the  rest,  that  result  in  the  pro- 
duction of  a  strong,  sharj)  negative. 


THE    SHASTA  DAISY  313 

But  if  in  making  the  successive  exposures,  you 
were  to  shift  the  position  of  the  camera  each  time, 
changing  the  scene,  you  would  build  up  a  nega- 
tive covered  with  faint  images  that  overlap  in 
such  a  way  as  to  make  a  blurred  and  unmean- 
ing picture. 

And  so  it  is  with  the  plant.  Each  hour  of  its 
life  there  come  to  it  certain  chemicals  from  the 
soil,  certain  influences  of  heat  and  moisture  from 
the  atmosphere,  that  are  in  effect  vibrations 
beating  on  its  protoplasmic  life  substance  and 
making  infinitesimal  but  all-important  changes 
in  its  intimate  structure.  The  amount  of  change 
thus  produced  in  a  day  or  a  year,  or,  under 
natural  conditions,  perhaps  in  a  century  or  in  a 
millennium,  would  be  slight,  for  the  lifetime  of 
races  and  plants  is  to  be  measured  not  in  these 
small  units,  but  in  geological  eras. 

Nevertheless,  the  influence  of  a  relatively  brief 
period  must  make  an  infinitesimal  change,  com- 
parable to  the  thousandth-second  exposure  of  the 
negative. 

And  when  a  plant  remains  century  after  cen- 
tury in  the  same  environment,  receiving  genera- 
tion after  generation  the  same  influences  from 
the  soil  and  atmosphere,  the  stamp  of  these  in- 
fluences on  its  organic  structure  becomes  more 
and   more   fixed   and   the   hereditary   influence 


SHASTA   DAISIES— CURIOUS 
TUBULAR   RAY   FLOWERS 

We  have  learned  through  observa- 
tion of  many  examples  that  when  a 
flower  or  plant  once  begins  to  vary,  it 
may  continue  to  vary  almost  indefi- 
nitely. Here  is  an  illustration  of  a  new 
departure  on  the  part  of  the  Shasta 
Daisy,  in  which  the  petals  take  on  a 
very  curious  form.  It  has  interest  as  a 
freak  rather  than  because  of  its  beauty, 
but  the  variety  is  worthy  of  attention, 
to  see  what  may  be  its  further  variation 
in  this  direction. 


THE    SHASTA  DAISY  315 

through  which  these  conditions  are  transmitted 
to  its  descendants  becomes  more  and  more  nota- 
ble and  pronounced. 

So  it  is  that  a  plant  that  has  lived  for  count- 
less generations  in  Japan  has  acquired  a  pro- 
found heredity  tending  to  transmit  a  particular 
set  of  qualities;  and  when  we  hybridize  that 
plant  with  another  plant  that  has  similarly 
gained  its  hereditary  tendencies  through  age- 
long residence  in  Europe,  wc  bring  together  two 
conflicting  streams  that  must  fight  against  each 
other  and  strangely  disturb  the  otherwise  equa- 
ble current  of  hereditary  transmission. 

Long  experience  with  the  hybrids  of  other 
species  of  plants  had  taught  me  this,  and  hence 
it  was  that  I  expected  to  bring  about  a  notable 
upheaval  in  the  hereditary  traits  of  my  daisies 
by  bringing  the  pollen  of  a  Japanese  plant  to 
the  stigmas  of  my  hybrid  European  and  Ameri- 
can oxeyes.  That  my  expectations  were  real- 
ized, and  more  than  realized,  is  matter  of  record 
of  which  the  present  Shasta  Daisy  gives  most 
tangible  proof. 

We  shall  see  the  same  thing  illustrated  over 
and  over  again  in  our  subsequent  studies. 

In  offering  this  explanation  of  the  extraordi- 
nary conflict  of  tendencies,  with  its  resulting  new 
and  strange  combination  of  qualities  that  re- 


316  LUTHER  BURBANK 

suited  from  the  mixing  of  the  various  strains  of 
daisies,  it  will  be  clear  that  I  am  assuming  that 
the  different  ancestral  races  were  all  evolution- 
ary products  that  owed  their  special  traits  of 
stem  and  leaf  and  flower  to  the  joint  influence 
of  heredity  and  environment. 

I  am  assuming  that  there  was  a  time  in  the 
remote  past  when  all  daisies  had  a  common 
ancestral  stock  very  different  from  any  existing 
race  of  daisies. 

Touring  the  World 

The  descendants  of  that  ancestral  stock  spread 
from  the  geographical  seat  of  its  origin — ^which 
may  perhaps  have  been  central  Asia — in  all  direc- 
tions. In  the  course  of  uncounted  centuries,  and 
along  channels  that  are  no  longer  traceable,  the 
daughter  races  ultimately  made  their  way  to  op- 
posite sides  of  the  world.  Some  now  found  them- 
selves in  Europe,  some  in  America,  some  in  Japan. 

Thousands  of  years  had  elapsed  since  the  long 
migration  began;  yet  so  persistent  is  the  power 
of  remote  heredity  that  the  daisies  of  Europe  and 
America  and  Japan  even  now  show  numerous 
traits  of  resemblance  and  proof  of  their  common 
origin  that  lead  the  botanist  to  classify  them  in 
the  same  genus.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  these 
races  show  differences  of  detail  as  to  stem  and 


THE    SHASTA  DAISY  317 

leaf  and  flower  and  habit  which  entitle  them  to 
rank  as  different  species. 

As  the  likenesses  between  the  different  daisies 
are  the  tokens  of  their  remote  common  origin  and 
evidences  of  the  power  of  heredity,  so  their 
specific  differences  betoken  the  influences  of  the 
different  environment  in  which  they  have  lived 
since  they  took  divergent  courses. 

The  Japanese  daisy  is  different  from  the  Ger- 
man daisy  because  the  sum  total  of  environ- 
ment influences  to  which  it  has  been  subjected 
in  the  past  few  thousand  years  is  different  from 
the  sum  total  of  influences  to  which  the  German 
daisy  has  been  subjected.  Not  merely  differ- 
ences due  to  the  soil  and  climate  of  Japan  and 
Germany  to-day,  but  cumulative  differences  due 
to  ancestral  environments  all  along  the  line  of 
the  migration  that  led  one  branch  of  the  race  of 
daisies  eastward  across  Asia  and  the  other  branch 
westward  across  Europe. 

Are  Acquired  Traits  Transmitted? 

But  all  this  implies  that  the  imprint  of 
the  successive  environments  was  in  each  case 
an  influence  transmitted  to  the  offspring;  and 
this  is  precisely  what  I  mean  to  imply. 

To  me  it  seems  quite  clear  that  the  observed 
divergences  between  the  European  and  the  Jap- 


318  LUTHER  BURBANK 

anese  daisy  are  to  be  explained  precisely  in  this 
way.  I  know  of  no  other  explanation  that  has 
any  semblance  of  plausibility. 

It  is  my  personal  belief  that  every  trait  ac- 
quired by  any  organism  through  the  influence 
of  its  environment  becomes  a  part  of  the  condi- 
tion of  the  organism  that  tends  to  reproduce  it- 
self through  inheritance. 

In  other  words  I  entertain  no  doubt  that  all 
acquired  traits  of  every  kind  are  transmissible  as 
more  or  less  infinitesimal  tendencies  to  the  off- 
spring of  the  organism. 

But  it  would  not  do  to  dismiss  the  subject 
without  adverting  to  the  fact  that  there  are  many 
biologists  who  dispute  the  possibility  of  the 
transmission  of  acquired  traits.  Indeed,  one  of 
the  most  ardent  controversies  of  recent  years  has 
had  to  do  with  that  point;  and  doubtless  many 
readers  w^ho  are  not  biologists  have  had  their  at- 
tention called  to  this  controversy  and  perhaps 
have  received  assurance  that  traits  acquired  by 
an  individual  organism  are  not  transmitted. 

I  shall  not  here  enter  into  any  details  of  the 
controversy,  although  doubtless  we  shall  have 
occasion  to  revert  to  it.  But  it  is  well  to  clarify 
the  subject  in  the  mind  of  the  reader  here  at  the 
outset,  by  pointing  out  that  this  controversy,  like 
a  good  many  others,  is  concerned  with  unessen- 


THE    SHASTA  DAISY  319 

tial  details,  sometimes  even  with  the  mere  jug- 
gling of  words,  rather  than  with  essentials. 

As  to  the  broad  final  analysis  of  the  subject 
in  its  remoter  bearings,  all  biologists  are  agreed. 

There  is  no  student  of  the  subject  speaking 
with  any  authority  to-day,  who  doubts  that  all 
animal  and  vegetable  forms  have  been  produced 
through  evolution,  and  it  requires  but  the  slight- 
est consideration  of  the  subject  to  make  it  clear 
that  Herbert  Spencer  was  right  when  he  said 
that  no  one  can  be  an  evolutionist  who  does  not 
believe  that  new  traits  somewhere  and  somehow 
acquired  can  be  transmitted. 

Otherwise  there  could  be  no  change  whatever 
in  any  organism  from  generation  to  generation 
or  from  age  to  age :  in  a  word,  there  would  be  no 
evolution. 

The  point  in  dispute,  then,  is  not  whether  any 
trait  and  modification  of  structure,  due  to  the 
influence  of  environment,  is  transmissible,  but 
only  as  to  whether  environmental  influences  that 
affect  the  body  only  and  not  the  germ  plasm  of 
the  individual  are  transmissible.  But  when  we 
reflect  that  the  germ  plasm  is  part  and  parcel 
of  the  organism,  it  seems  fairly  clear  that  this 
is  a  distinction  without  a  real  difference. 

As  Professor  Coulter  has  recently  said,  it  is 
largely  a  matter  of  definition. 


A  BEAUTIFUL  LACINIATED 
TYPE 

The  flowers  shown  above,  selected 
from  some  of  my  Shasta  experiments, 
have  more  the  appearance  of  the  Chi- 
nese chrysanthemum,  almost,  than  of 
the  ordinary  Shasta  Daisy,  It  will  he 
noted  that  the  flower  at  the  lower  left 
gives  evidence  of  douhleness  to  such  an 
extent  that  the  center  has  become  fully 
double.     Notice  the  laciniated  petals. 


THE    SHASTA   DAISY  321 

We  shall  have  occasion  to  discuss  this  phase 
of  heredity  more  fully  in  another  connection.  In 
the  meantime,  for  our  present  purpose,  it  suffices 
to  recall  that  biologists  of  every  school  will  ad- 
mit the  force  of  the  general  statement  that 
heredity  is  the  sum  of  past  environments,  and — 
to  make  the  specific  application — that  our  Jap- 
anese and  our  English  and  American  daisies  are 
different  because  long  generations  of  their  an- 
cestors have  lived  in  different  geographical  ter- 
ritories and  therefore  have  been  subject  to  diverse 
environing  conditions. 

In  a  word,  then,  the  Shasta  Daisy  which 
stands  to-day  as  virtually  a  new  creation,  so 
widely  different  from  any  other  plant  that  no 
botanist  would  hesitate  to  describe  it  as  a  new 
species,  owes  its  existence  to  the  bringing  to- 
gether of  conflicting  hereditary  tendencies  that 
epitomize  the  ancestral  experiences  gained  in 
widely  separated  geographical  territories. 

Without  the  aid  of  man,  the  plants  that  had 
found  final  refuge  in  Europe  and  America  and 
Japan,  respectively,  would  never  have  been 
brought  in  contact,  and  so  the  combination  of 
traits  that  built  up  the  Shasta  Daisy  would  never 
have  been  produced. 

In  that  sense,  then,  artificial  selection  created 
the  Shasta  Daisy,  but  the  forces  evoked  were 

Vol.  1 — Bur.  K 


322  LUTHER   BURBANK 

those  that  nature  provided,  and  the  entire  course 
of  my  experiments  might  be  likened  to  an  ab- 
breviated transcript  of  the  processes  of  natural 
selection  through  which  species  everywhere  have 
been  created,  and  are  to-day  still  being  created, 
in  the  world  at  large. 

New  Races  of  Shastas 

Once  the  divergent  traits  of  these  various 
strains  had  been  intermingled,  the  conflict  set  up 
was  sure  to  persist  generation  after  generation. 

Each  individual  hereditary  trait,  even  though 
suppressed  in  a  single  generation  by  the  prepo- 
tency of  some  opposing  trait,  strives  for  a  hear- 
ing and  tends  to  reappear  in  some  subsequent 
generation. 

So  the  plant  developer,  by  keenly  scrutinizing 
each  seedling,  will  observe  that  no  two  plants  of 
his  hybrid  crop  are  absolutely  identical;  and  by 
selecting  and  cultivating  one  divergent  strain  or 
another,  he  may  bring  to  the  surface  and  further 
develop  traits  that  had  long  been  subordinated. 

Seizing  on  these,  I  was  enabled,  in  the  course 
of  ensuing  years,  to  develop  various  races  of  the 
Shasta,  some  of  which  were  so  very  different  that 
they  have  been  given  individual  names.  The 
Alaska,  for  example,  has  even  larger  and  more 
numerous   blossoms   than   the   original    Shasta, 


THE    SHASTA  DAISY  328 

with  longer  and  stronger  stems  and  more  vigor- 
ous and  hardy  growth.  The  WestraHa  has  blos- 
soms of  even  greater  size,  and  exceptionally- 
long,  strong,  and  graceful  stems,  and  the  Cali- 
fornia has  a  slightly  smaller  flower,  but  produced 
in  great  profusion;  and  its  blossoms,  instead  of 
being  snowy  white  like  those  of  the  other  races, 
are  bright  lemon  yellow  on  first  opening. 

Moreover  the  enhanced  vitality  due  to  cross- 
breeding and  the  mingling  of  different  ancestral 
strains,  was  evidenced  presently  in  a  tendency  to 
the  production  not  merely  of  large  blossoms,  but 
of  blossoms  having  an  increased  number  of  ray 
flowers. 

The  daisy  is  a  composite  flower,  and  the  petal- 
like leaves  that  give  it  chief  beauty  are  not  really 
petals,  but  are  technically  spoken  of  as  rays.  The 
flowers  proper,  ind^'vidually  small  and  inconspic- 
uous, are  grouped  at  the  center  of  the  circling 
rays. 

In  all  the  original  species  the  ray  flowers  con- 
stitute a  single  row.  But  the  hybrids  began  al- 
most from  the  first  to  show  an  increased  number 
of  longer  and  wider  ray  flowers,  some  of  which 
overlapped  their  neighbors. 

By  sowing  seed  from  flowers  showing  this 
tendency,  after  a  few  generations  a  strain  of 
plants  was  developed  in  which  the  blossoms  were 


324  LUTHER   BURBANK 

characterized  by  two  rows  of  ray  flowers  instead 
of  one.  Continuing  the  selection,  flowers  were 
secured  in  successive  generations  having  still 
wider  and  longer  rays  and  increased  numbers  of 
rows,  until  finally  handsome  double-flowered  va- 
rieties were  produced. 

Aberrant  forms  were  also  produced  showing 
long  tubular  ray  flowers  and  others  having  the 
rays  fimbriated  or  divided  at  the  tip. 

And  all  these  divergent  and  seemingly  differ- 
ent types  of  flowers,  it  will  be  understood,  have 
the  same  remote  ancestry,  and  represent  the 
bringing  to  the  surface — the  segregation  and  re- 
combination and  intensification — of  diverse  sets 
of  ancestral  traits  that  had  long  been  submerged. 

It  is  certain  that  no  plant  precisely  like  the 
Shasta  Daisy  or  any  one  of  its  varieties  ever 
existed  until  developed  here  in  my  gardens  at 
Santa  Rosa. 


I  have  never  entertained  a  doubt 
as  to  the  trans missihility  of  ac- 
quired characters  and  tendencies. 


THE  WHITE  BLACKBERRY 

How  A  CoLOH  Transfobmation  was 
Brought  About 

TO  SPEAK  of  white  blackbirds  or  of  white 
blackberries  is  to  employ  an  obvious  contra- 
diction of  terms.  Yet  we  all  know  that  now 
and  again  a  blackbird  does  appear  that  is  pure 
white.  And  visitors  to  my  experiment  gardens 
during  the  past  twenty  years  can  testify  that  the 
white  blackberry  is  something  more  than  an  oc- 
casional product — that  it  is,  in  short,  a  fully  es- 
tablished and  highly  productive  variety  of  fruit. 
There  is  no  record  of  anyone  having  ever  seen 
a  truly  white  blackberry  until  this  anomalous 
fruit  was  produced. 

Nevertheless  it  should  be  explained  at  the 
outset  that  the  berry  with  the  aid  of  which  I  de- 
veloped the  new  fruit  was  called  a  white  black- 
berry. It  was  a  berry  found  gi'owing  wild  in 
New  Jersey,  and  introduced  as  a  garden  novelty, 
with  no  pretense  to  value  as  a  table  fruit,  by  Mr. 
T.  J.    Lovett.     He  called    the  berry    "Crystal 

325 


326  LUTHER   BURBANK 

White,"  but  this  was  very  obviously  a  misnomer 
as  the  fruit  itself  was  never  white,  but  of  a  dull 
brownish  yellow.  It  has  as  little  pretension  to 
beauty  as  to  size  or  excellence  of  flavor,  and  was 
introduced  simply  as  a  curiosity. 

When  a  white  blackbird  appears  in  a  flock,  it 
is  usually  a  pure  albino.  It  may  perhaps  be  re- 
garded as  a  pathological  specimen,  in  which,  for 
some  unknown  reason,  the  pigment  that  normally 
colors  the  feathers  of  birds  is  altogether  lacking. 

It  is  not  unlikely  that  the  original  so-called 
white  blackberry  was  also  an  albino  of  this 
pathological  type.  But  if  so,  hybridization  had 
produced  a  mongrel  race  before  the  plant  was 
discovered  by  man,  or  at  least  before  any  record 
was  made  of  its  discovery;  for,  as  just  noted,  the 
berry  introduced  by  Mr.  Lovett  could  be  termed 
white  only  by  courtesy. 

Nevertheless  the  berry  differed  very  markedly 
from  the  normal  blackberiy,  which,  as  everyone 
knows,  is  of  a  glossy  blackness  when  ripe.  So 
my  interest  in  the  anomalous  fruit  was  at  once 
aroused,  and  I  sent  for  some  specimens  for  ex- 
perimental purposes  soon  after  its  introduction, 
believing  that  it  might  offer  possibilities  of  im- 
provement. 

Making  use  of  the  principles  I  have  found  suc- 
cessful with  other  plants,  my  first  thought  was  to 


THE    WHITE    BLACKBERRY     327 

hybridize  the  brownish  white  berry  with  some 
allied  species  in  order  to  bring  out  the  tendency 
to  variation  and  thus  afford  material  for  selective 
breeding. 

Creating  a  Really  White  Blackberry 

The  first  cross  effected  was  with  the  Lawton 
blackberry,  using  pollen  from  the  Lawton  berry. 
The  Lawton  is  known  to  be  very  prepotent ;  it  is 
of  a  very  fixed  race  and  will  reproduce  itself 
from  seed  almost  exactly,  which  is  not  true  of 
most  cultivated  fruits.  Its  seedlings  often  seem 
uninfluenced  when  grown  from  seed  pollinated 
by  other  varieties. 

It  was  to  be  expected,  therefore,  that  the  cross 
between  the  Lawton  and  the  "white"  berry  would 
result  in  producing  all  black  stock  closely  resem- 
bling the  Lawton;  and  such  was  indeed  the  re- 
sult. 

But  the  Lawton  also  imparts  its  good  qualities 
to  hybrids  when  its  pollen  is  used  to  fertilize  the 
flowers  of  other  varieties.  As  a  general  rule,  it  is 
my  experience  that  it  makes  no  difference  which 
way  a  cross  is  effected  between  two  species  of 
plants.  The  pollen  conveys  the  hereditary 
tendencies  actively,  and  so-called  reciprocal 
crosses  usually  produce  seedlings  of  the  same 
character. 


328  LUTHER   BURBANK 

That  is  to  say,  it  usually  seems  to  make  no 
practical  difference  whether  j^ou  take  pollen  from 
flower  A  to  fertilize  flower  B,  or  pollen  from 
flower  B  to  fertilize  flower  A. 

This  observation,  which  was  first  made  by  the 
early  hybridizers  of  plants  more  than  a  century 
ago — notably  by  Kolreuter  and  by  Von  Geertner 
— is  fully  confirmed  by  my  own  observations  on 
many  hundreds  of  species.  Nevertheless,  it  occa- 
sionally happens  that  the  plant  experimenter 
gains  some  advantage  by  using  one  cross  rather 
than  the  other.  In  the  present  case  it  seemed 
that  by  using  the  Lawton  as  the  pollenizing 
flower,  and  growing  berries  on  the  brownish 
white  species,  a  race  was  produced  with  a  more 
pronounced  tendency  to  vary. 

Still  the  plants  that  grew  from  seed  thus  pro- 
duced bore  only  black  berries  in  the  first  genera- 
tion, just  as  when  the  cross  was  made  the  other 
way.  It  thus  appeared  that  the  prepotency  of 
the  Lawton  manifested  itself  with  full  force  and 
certainty  whether  it  was  used  as  the  staminate  or 
as  the  pistillate  flower. 

When  the  flowers  of  this  first  filial  generation 
were  interbred,  however,  the  seed  thus  produced 
proved  its  mixed  heritage  by  growing  into  some 
very  strange  forms  of  vine.  One  of  these  was  a 
blackberry  that  bloomed  and  fruited  all  the  year. 


THE    WHITE    BLACKBERRY     329 

This  individual  bush,  instead  of  dying  down  like 
others,  kept  growing  at  the  top  like  a  vine  or  tree, 
anc^-  when  it  was  two  or  three  years  old  it  was  so 
tall  that  a  stepladder  was  required  to  reach  the 
fruit.  Its  berries,  however,  were  rather  small, 
soft,  and  jet  black  in  color. 

This  plant,  then,  was  an  interesting  anomaly, 
but  it  gave  no  aid  in  the  quest  of  a  white  black- 
berry. 

But  there  were  other  vines  of  this  second  filial 
generation — grandchildren  of  the  Lawton  and 
the  original  "Crystal  White" — that  showed  a 
tendency  to  vary  in  the  color  of  their  fruit,  this 
being  in  some  cases  yellowish  white.  Of  course 
these  bushes  were  selected  for  further  experi- 
ment. Some  were  cross-fertilized  and  the  seed 
preserved. 

The  vines  that  grew  from  this  seed  in  the  next 
season  gave  early  indications  of  possessing  varied 
qualities.  It  is  often  to  be  observed  that  a  vine 
which  will  ultimately  produce  berries  of  a  light 
color  lacks  pigment  in  its  stem,  and  is  greenish  or 
amber  in  color,  whereas  the  stem  of  a  vine  that  is 
to  produce  black  berries  is  dark  brown  or  purple. 
A  few  of  the  blackberry  vines  of  the  third  gen- 
eration showed  this  light  color ;  and  in  due  course, 
when  they  came  to  the  fruiting  age,  they  put 
forth  hea\y  crops  of  clear  white  berries  of  such 


THE  CRYSTAL  WHITE 
SO  CALLED 

Some  thirty  years  ago  we  learned 
that  a  wild  blackberry  of  New  Jersey 
pictured  opposite^  lighter  in  color  than 
any  other  blackberry,  had  been  intro- 
duced as  a  garden  novelty  under 
the  name  Crystal  White.  Although 
lighter  than  any  other  blackberry,  it 
was  of  a  muddy  brown  color,  as  can  be 
seen  from  the  photograph.  The  berries 
were  small  and  of  poor  flavor.  This 
wild  berry,  however,  was  the  first  step 
in  the  production  of  the  new  varieties 
of  the  true  white  blackberries. 


THE    WHITE    BLACKBERRY     331 

transparency  that  the  seeds,  though  unusually 
small,  could  readily  be  seen  through  the  trans- 
lucent pulp. 

These  were  doubtless  the  first  truly  white 
blackberries  of  which  there  is  any  record.  But 
there  were  only  four  or  five  bushes  bearing  these 
white  berries  in  an  entire  generation  comprising 
several  hundred  individual  bushes,  all  having  pre- 
cisely the  same  ancestry. 

From  among  the  four  or  five  bushes  the  one 
showing  a  combination  of  the  best  qualities  was 
selected  and  multiplied,  until  its  descendants  con- 
stituted a  race  of  white  blackberries  tliat  breeds 
absolutely  true  as  regards  the  white  fruit. 

Now  Breeds  True  from  Seed 

The  descendants  of  this  particular  bush  were 
widely  scattered  and  passed  out  of  my  control. 
But  subsequently,  from  the  same  stock,  I  de- 
veloped other  races,  and  finally  perfected,  merely 
by  selection  and  interbreeding  from  this  same 
stock,  a  race  of  white  blackberries  that  breeds 
time  from  the  seed,  showing  no  tendency  what- 
ever to  revert  to  the  black  grandparental  type. 

This  is,  in  short,  a  fruit  which  if  found  in  the 
state  of  nature  would  unhesitatingly  be  pro- 
nounced a  distinct  species.  Its  fruit  is  not  only 
snowy  white  in  color,  but  large  and  luscious,  com- 


332  LUTHER    BURBANK 

parable  in  the  latter  respect  to  the  Lawton  berry 
which  was  one  of  its  ancestors. 

"Was  there  ever  in  nature  a  berry  just  like 
this?"    a  visitor  asked  me. 

Probably  not;  but  there  was  a  small  white 
berry  and  a  large  luscious  black  one,  and  I  have 
brought  the  best  qualities  of  each  together  in  a 
new  combination. 

The  Anomaly  Explained 

Reviewing  briefly  the  history  just  outlined,  it 
appears  that  the  new  white  blackberry  had  for 
grandparents  a  large  and  luscious  jet  black  berry 
known  as  the  Lawton  blackberry  and  a  small  ill- 
flavored  fruit  of  a  j^ellowish  brown  color.  The 
descendant  has  inherited  the  size  and  lusciousness 
of  its  black  ancestor,  and  this  seems  not  alto- 
gether anomalous.  But  how  shall  we  account  for 
the  fact  that  it  is  pure  white  in  color,  whereas  its 
alleged  white  ancestor  was  not  really  white  at  all? 

The  attempt  to  answer  that  question  brings 
us  face  to  face  with  some  of  the  most  curious 
facts  and  theories  of  heredity.  We  are  bound  to 
account  for  the  white  blackberry  in  accordance 
with  the  laws  of  heredity,  yet  at  first  blush  its 
dazzling  whiteness  seems  to  bid  defiance  to  these 
laws,  for  we  can  show  no  recognized  white  an- 
cestor in  explanation. 


THE    WHITE    BLACKBERKY     333 

This  whole  matter  is  so  simple,  however,  that 
anyone  can  see  the  cause  of  this  unusual  white- 
ness. All  plant  breeders  realize  that  any  quality 
can  be  intensified  to  almost  any  extent  by  care- 
ful and  persistent  selection. 

There  is,  of  course,  no  other  very  plausible  ex- 
planation available  of  the  origin  of  the  anomalous 
berry.  White  is  not  a  favorite  color  either  among 
animals  or  among  vegetables.  Except  in  Arctic 
regions  it  is  very  rare  indeed  to  find  an  unpig- 
mented  animal  or  bird,  and  white  fruits  are  al- 
most equally  unusual. 

In  the  case  of  animals  and  birds,  it  is  not  diffi- 
cult to  explain  the  avoidance  of  white  furs  and 
feathers.  A  white  bird,  for  example,  is  obviously 
very  conspicuous,  and  thus  is  much  more  open  to 
the  attacks  of  its  enemies  than  a  bird  of  some 
color  that  blends  with  its  surroundings.  So  we 
find  that  there  is  no  small  bird  of  the  Northern 
Hemisphere,  with  the  single  exception  of  the 
snow  bunting,  which  normally  dresses  wholly  in 
white.  The  exception  in  the  case  of  the  snow 
bunting  is  obviously  explained  by  the  habits  of 
the  bird  itself. 

And  even  this  bird  assumes  a  brownish  coat  in 
the  summer. 

There  are  a  few  large  waterfowl,  notably  the 
pelican  and  certain  herons  that  wear  snowy  white 


334  LUTHER   BURBANK 

plumage  habitually  throughout  the  year.  But 
these  are  birds  of  predacious  habits  that  are 
little  subject  to  the  attacks  of  enemies,  and  it 
has  been  shown  that  the  white  color,  or  bluish 
white,  tends  to  make  the  birds  inconspicuous 
from  the  viewpoint  of  the  fish  that  are  their 
prey. 

So  in  the  case  of  the  tiny  snow  bunting  and  of 
pelicans  and  herons,  the  white  color  of  the  plum- 
age is  seen  to  be  advantageous  to  its  wearer  and 
hence  is  easily  explained  according  to  the  prin- 
ciple of  natural  selection.  The  same  is  true  of 
the  white  plumage  assumed  by  those  species  of 
grouse  and  ptarmigan  that  winter  in  the  Arctic 
or  sub- Arctic  regions ;  and  contrariwise,  the  pig- 
mented coats  of  the  vast  majority  of  the  birds 
and  animals  of  temperate  zones  are  accounted  for 
on  the  same  principle. 

But  just  why  the  fruits  of  plants  should  almost 
universally  be  pigmented  seems  at  first  not  quite 
so  clear.  It  is  ordinarily  supposed  to  be  advan- 
tageous for  a  plant  to  have  its  fruit  made  visible 
to  the  birds  and  animals,  that  the  aid  of  these 
creatures  may  be  gained  in  disseminating  the 
seed.  And  it  must  be  obvious  that  a  white  black- 
berry would  be  as  conspicuous  in  the  woodlands 
where  this  vine  grows  as  are  the  jet  black  berries 
of  the  ordinary  type. 


THE    WHITE    BLACKBERRY     335 

Why,  then,  you  ask,  b^s  not  natural  selection 
developed  a  race  of  white  blackberries? 

I  am  not  sure  that  anyone  can  give  an  ade- 
quate answer.  Perhaps  it  is  desirable  to  have 
the  seeds  of  a  plant  protected  from  the  rays  of 
the  sun,  particularly  from  those  ultra-violet  rays 
which  are  known  to  have  great  power  in  produc- 
ing chemical  changes.  Recent  studies  of  the 
short  waves  of  light  beyond  the  violet  end  of  the 
spectrum  show  that  they  have  strong  germicidal 
power. 

It  will  be  recalled  that  the  celebrated  Danish 
physician  Dr.  Finsen  developed  a  treatment  of 
local  tubercular  affections  based  on  the  principle 
that  ultra-violet  light  destroys  the  disease  germs. 
And  most  readers  have  heard  of  Dr.  Wood- 
ward's theory  that  very  bright  light  is  detri- 
mental to  all  living  organisms. 

Possibly  too  much  sunlight  might  have  a  dele- 
terious effect  on  the  seeds  of  such  a  plant  as  the 
blackberry.  Indeed,  the  fact  that  the  berry 
quickly  develops  pigments  under  ordinary  con- 
ditions, and  develops  them  much  earlier  than  the 
stage  at  which  it  is  desirable  to  have  the  fruit 
eaten  by  birds,  suggests  that  this  pigment  is 
protective  to  the  fruit  itself  in  addition  to  its 
function  of  making  the  fruit  attractive  to  the 
bird. 


336  LUTHER   BURBANK 

But  be  the  explanation  what  it  may,  the  fact 
remains  that  very  few  fruits  in  a  state  of  nature 
are  white ;  and  no  one  needs  to  be  told  that  fruits 
of  the  many  tribes  of  blackberries,  with  the  single 
exception  of  the  one  under  present  discussion,  are 
of  a  color  fully  to  justify  the  name  they  bear. 
Yet  the  experiment  in  breeding  just  recorded 
proves  that,  at  least  under  the  conditions  of  arti- 
ficial selection,  a  race  of  berries  may  be  devel- 
oped which,  though  having  the  flavor  and  con- 
tour of  the  blackberry,  is  as  far  as  possible  from 
black  in  color. 

The  fact  that  this  race  of  white  berries  was 
developed  in  the  third  generation  from  parents 
one  of  which  is  a  jet  black  fruit  and  the  other  a 
fruit  of  a  brownish  tint,  seems  at  first  glance  to 
give  challenge  to  the  laws  of  heredity. 

Atavism  and  Unit  Characters 

Even  though  we  should  assume  that  a  remote 
ancestor  of  our  newly  developed  white  black- 
berry might  have  been  a  pure  albino,  the  case 
still  seems  mysterious.  Cases  of  reversion  to  the 
type  of  a  remote  ancestor  have  been  observed 
from  time  to  time  by  all  breeders  of  animals  and 
by  students  of  human  heredity,  and  it  has  been 
customary  to  explain  such  cases  of  reversion,  or 
at  least  to  label  them  with  the  word  "atavism." 


THE    WHITE    BLACKBERRY     337 

If  this  word  be  taken  to  imply  that  all  traits 
and  tendencies  of  an  ancestral  strain  are  carried 
forward  from  generation  to  generation  by  hered- 
ity, even  though  unable  to  make  themselves 
manifest  for  many  generations,  and  that  then, 
through  some  unexplained  combination  of  tend- 
encies, the  submerged  trait  is  enabled  to  come  to 
the  surface  and  make  itself  manifest,  the  explana- 
tion must  be  admitted  to  have  a  certain  measure 
of  tangibility. 

Nevertheless,  there  is  a  degree  of  vagueness 
about  the  use  of  the  word  "tendencies"  that  robs 
the  explanation  of  complete  satisfactoriness. 

Meantime  the  human  mind  is  always  groping 
after  tangible  explanations  of  observed  phenom- 
ena. It  is  always  more  satisfactory  to  be  able  to 
visualize  processes  of  nature.  It  was  for  this 
reason  that  Darwin's  theory  that  natural  selec- 
tion is  the  most  powerful  moving  factor  in  the 
evolution  of  races  gained  such  general  recogni- 
tion and  still  remains  as  the  most  satisfactory  of 
all  hypotheses  of  evolution. 

And  it  is  for  the  same  reason  that  a  tangible 
explanation  of  the  phenomena  of  atavism  or  the 
reversion  to  ancestral  types  has  gained  a  tremen- 
dous vogue  in  recent  years. 

The  explanation  in  question  is  associated  with 
the  name  of  the.  Austrian  monk    Mendel,    who 


SIGNS    OF   SUCCESS— LARGER 
YELLOW-WHITE    BERRIES 

From  among  many  crosses  between 
the  Lawton  and  the  old  Crystal  White 
a  berry  very  much  improved  in  size  was 
secured,  as  shown  on  the  opposite  page, 
and  the  form,  texture,  and  flavor  were 
brought  up  to  the  point  which  made  it 
almost  worth  growing  for  its  fruit, 
while  the  color,  though  still  far  from 
white,  was  much  lighter  than  even  that 
of  the  wild  Crystal  White.  This  variety 
was  a  first  generation  cross  with  the 
Lawton,  a  blackberry,  and  was  raised 
from  Lawton  seeds. 


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THE   WHITE    BLACKBERRY     339 

made  some  remarkable  experiments  in  plant 
breeding  about  half  a  century  ago,  and  who  died 
in  1884,  but  whose  work  remained  quite  unknown 
until  his  obscure  publications  were  rediscovered 
by  Professor  Hugo  de  Vries  and  two  other  con- 
temporary workers,  and  made  known  to  the 
world  about  the  year  1900.  Since  then  a  very 
large  part  of  the  attention  of  the  biological  world 
has  been  devoted  to  the  further  examination  of 
what  has  come  to  be  spoken  of  as  Mendelian  prin- 
ciples. 

And,  as  is  usual  in  such  cases,  unwarranted 
expectations  have  been  aroused  in  some  quarters 
as  to  the  real  import  and  meaning  of  the  new 
point  of  view;  also  a  good  deal  of  misunderstand- 
ing as  to  the  application  of  the  so-called  Men- 
delian laws  of  heredity  to  the  work  of  the  prac- 
tical plant  developer. 

In  view  of  the  latter  fact  it  is  well  to  bear  in 
mind  that  such  experiments  in  plant  breeding  as 
those  through  which  I  developed  the  white  black- 
berry and  hundreds  of  others  were  made  long 
before  anything  was  known  of  Mendel  and  his 
experiments,  and  at  a  time  when  the  conceptions 
now  associated  with  Mendelism  were  absolutely 
unknown  to  any  person  in  the  world.  It  is  well 
to  emphasize  this  fact  for  two  reasons:  first,  as 
showing  that  practical  breeding,  resulting  in  the 


340  LUTHER    BURBANK 

bringing  to  the  surface  of  latent  traits — for  ex- 
ample, whiteness  in  the  blackberry; — could  be 
carried  to  a  sure  and  rapid  culmination  without 
the  remotest  possibility  of  guidance  from  "JNIen- 
delism;"  secondly,  because  from  this  verj'-  fact 
the  interpretation  of  my  experiments  has  fuller 
significance  in  its  bearing  on  the  truth  of  the 
Mendelian  formulas  than  if  the  experiments  had 
been  made  with  these  formulas  in  mind. 

This  is  true  not  alone  of  the  creation  of  the 
white  blackberry,  but  of  the  similar  development 
of  the  Shasta  Daisy  and  of  a  host  of  other  new 
forms  of  plant  life  that  will  find  record  in  suc- 
cessive chapters  of  the  present  work. 

But  while  I  would  thus  guard  the  reader 
against  the  mistake,  which  some  enthusiasts  have 
made,  of  assuming  that  the  Mendelian  formula 
about  which  so  much  is  heard  nowadays  must 
revolutionize  the  methods  and  results  of  the  plant 
breeder,  I  would  be  foremost  to  admit  that  the 
remarkable  work  of  Mendel  himself,  together 
with  the  work  of  his  numerous  followers  of  the 
past  ten  years,  has  supplied  us  at  once  with  sev- 
eral convenient  new  terms  and  with  a  tangible 
explanation  or  interpretation  of  a  good  many 
facts  of  plant  and  animal  heredity  that  hereto- 
fore have  been  but  vaguely  explicable,  even 
though  clearly  known  and  demonstrated  as  facts. 


THE    WHITE    BLACKBERRY     341 

A  knowledge  of  Mendelism  may  be  called  the 
A  B  C  of  plant  breeding,  and  when  it  was  first 
advocated  in  America  at  the  International  Plant 
Breeding  Conference  in  New  York,  October  2, 
1902,  it  was  generally  thought  by  those  who  had 
little  or  no  knowledge  of  the  results  of  experi- 
mental evolution  that  those  who  had  been  pro- 
ducing plants  and  animals  of  superlative  value 
were  far  behind  the  times  and  would  immedi- 
ately be  outdistanced  by  those  who  adopted  the 
new  theory  in  experimenting— in  fact,  the  prac- 
tical and  eminently  successful  breeders  were 
looked  upon  by  many  of  those  who  were  enthu- 
siastically advocating  the  new  theory  as  blind 
workers.  Many  of  these  theoretical  breeders  who 
were  more  or  less  without  much  practical  experi- 
ence or  knowledge  of  the  results  of  a  careful  ex- 
perimental study  of  heredity,  variation,  hybrid- 
ization, etc.,  made  many  public  statements  of 
what  they  had  planned  and  were  about  to  do  to 
secure  immediate  important  practical  results. 
INIany  of  those  connected  with  the  experiment 
stations  and  others  were  much  carried  away,  and 
promised  to  accomplish  things  at  which  the  ex- 
perienced breeders  could  only  smile  until  the 
awakening  to  the  fact  that  nature's  ways  were 
somewhat  more  complicated  than  they  had  been 
led  to  believe. 


342  LUTHER    BURBANK 

A  paintbrush  and  a  pot  of  paint  never  made  an 
artist  unless  there  was  something  more  than 
theory  for  a  guide.  Extensive  plant  breeding 
requires  for  its  success  a  very  broad  and  exten- 
sive knowledge  of  botany,  biology,  evolution, 
physiology,  chemistry,  paleontology,  and  of  the 
whole  life  history  of  the  earth  and  its  plants,  a 
good  knowledge  of  heredity,  environment,  varia- 
tion, adaptation,  germination,  inheritance,  ex- 
pression, adjustment,  elimination,  and  of  hardi- 
ness, plant  diseases  and  how  to  eliminate  them, 
insects  and  how  to  overcome  them,  of  soils,  of  the 
practical  changes  to  be  made  and  how  to  attain 
them,  with  a  knowledge  of  foods,  flavors,  fra- 
grance, colors ;  the  requirements  of  markets,  ship- 
pers, dealers,  and  consumers ;  in  fact,  a  broad  and 
comprehensive  general  knowledge  of  the  work  of 
those  who  have  gone  before,  and  a  technique  in 
the  work  which  can  never  be  acquired  except  bj'' 
most  constant  and  careful  study  of  the  living, 
growing  plants  themselves,  and  a  fund  of  pa- 
tience with  this  most  enticing  game  with  nature 
which  knows  no  end. 

The  case  of  the  white  blackberry  with  which 
we  are  at  the  moment  concerned,  is  a  very  good 
illustration  in  point. 

My  experiments  in  the  development  of  that 
berry  might  be  interpreted  in  the  older  terminol- 


THE    WHITE   BLACKBERRY     343 

ogy  something  like  this:  The  big,  luscious, 
black  Lawton  blackberry  proved  prepotent  when 
crossed  with  the  small  brownish  "Crystal  White," 
and  the  offspring  were  therefore  all  large  lus- 
cious black  berries  closely  similar  to  the  pre- 
potent parent.  But  the  qualities  of  the  other 
parent  were  latent  in  these  offspring,  and — the 
tendency  to  variation  having  been  stimulated  by 
Jhe  hj^bridizing  of  these  different  forms — ^the  off- 
spring of  the  second  generation  showed  gi-eat 
diversity,  and  a  tendency  to  reversion  to  the  traits 
of  the  more  obscure  or  less  prepotent  of  the  two 
grandparents. 

In  the  still  later  generations,  the  conflict  of 
hereditary  tendencies  continuing,  an  even  more 
striking  reversion,  according  to  the  principle  of 
atavism,  took  place  in  the  case  of  a  few  of  the 
many  progeny,  bringing  to  light  the  pure  white 
berry,  a  heritage  from  its  brownish  ancestor. 

The  INIendelian  Explanation 

Now  this,  as  I  say,  would  fairly  explain  the 
case  of  the  white  blackberry  in  such  terms  as 
were  universally  employed  at  the  time  when  this 
interesting  fruit  was  developed. 

But  the  evolutionist  of  to-day,  considering  the 
same  facts,  would  be  likely  to  offer  an  explana- 
tion in  Mendelian  terms  that  would  have  the 


344  LUTHER   BURBANK 

merit  of  adding  a  certain  measure  of  tangibility 
to  the  mental  picture  of  the  actual  processes  in- 
volved in  the  hereditary  transmission  of  traits 
through  which  the  white  blackberry  was  devel- 
oped. And  there  can  be  no  question  of  the  con- 
venience of  these  terms  and  of  their  value  in  aid- 
ing to  conjure  up  such  a  picture,  provided  it  be 
not  supposed  that  the  presentation  of  such  a 
formula  is  to  clarify  all  the  mysteries  of  heredity 
and  to  do  away  with  the  necessity  in  the 
future — as  some  misguided  enthusiasts  have  as- 
sumed— of  laborious  and  patient  experiments 
akin  to  those  through  which  the  triumphs  of 
the  plant  developer  have  been  achieved  in  the 
past. 

In  a  word,  the  Mendelian  formulas,  if  ac- 
cepted at  their  true  valuation  and  for  their  real 
purpose,  may  be  regarded  as  placing  new  and 
valuable  tools  in  the  hands  of  the  plant  experi- 
menter, just  as  did  the  formula  of  natural  selec- 
tion as  put  forward  by  Darwin;  but  we  must 
in  one  case  as  in  the  other  guard  against  imagin- 
ing that  the  phrasing  of  a  formula  may  properly 
take  the  j^lace  of  the  practical  observation  of 
matters  of  fact. 

Bearing  this  caution  in  mind,  let  us  note  the 
changed  terminology  in  which  the  Mendelian  of 
to-day  interprets  the  observed  facts  of  the  de- 


THE    WHITE    BLACKBERRY     345 

velopment  of  the  white  blackberry.    His  expla- 
nation would  run  something  like  this: 

When  the  Lawton  blackberry  is  crossed  with 
the  whitish  berry,  all  the  offspring  of  the  first 
filial  generation  are  black  because  blackness  and 
whiteness  are  a  pair  of  "unit  characters,"  both 
elements  or  factors  of  which  cannot  be  mani- 
fested in  the  same  individual;  and  blackness  is 
the  "dominant"  character  of  the  two,  whiteness 
being  "recessive." 

But  the  hereditary  factors  or  "determiners" 
that  make  for  whiteness,  though  momentarily 
subordinated,  are  not  eliminated,  and  half  the 
germ  cells  produced  by  the  hybrid  generation  in 
which  blackness  is  dominant,  will  contain  the 
factor  of  whiteness,  whereas  the  other  half  con- 
tain the  factor  of  blackness.  And  when  in  a  suc- 
cessive generation  a  germ  cell  containing  the 
factor  of  whiteness  unites  with  the  germ  cell  of 
another  plant  similarly  containing  the  factor  of 
whiteness,  the  offspring  of  that  union  will  be 
white,  their  organisms  inheriting  no  factor  of 
blackness  whatever. 

It  may  chance,  however,  that  for  many  succes- 
sive generations  a  germ  cell  containing  only  the 
factor  of  whitness  fails  to  mate  with  another 
similar  germ  cell  and  so  no  white-fruited  pro- 
geny is  produced.    In  such  a  case  for  generation 


WHITE  BLACKBERRIES  AS 
THEY  GROW 

The  direct-color  pliotograpa  print 
opioosite  gives  evidence  that  the  im- 
proved white  blackberries  were  not  only 
selected  for  color,  flavor,  size,  flrmness, 
and  the  season  of  bearing,  but  also  for 
the  form,  hardiness,  and  other  good 
qualities  of  the  plant  that  bears  them. 
In  the  final  production  of  any  new  fruit, 
all  of  these  qualities  and  many  others 
must  enter  into  consideration  —  and  a 
perfect  balance  or  combination  of  all 
of  them  is  the  triumph  of  final  selection. 


THE   WHITE    BLACKBERRY     347 

after  generation  the  white  factors  continue  to  be 
produced  in  the  germ  cells,  but  the  union  with  a 
germ  cell  containing  the  black  factor  obscures  the 
result  just  as  in  the  case  of  the  first  cross,  because 
the  factor  of  blackness  continues  to  be  dominant. 

But,  however  long  delayed,  when  a  cell  con- 
taining the  white  factor  or  determiner  does  mate 
with  a  similar  cell,  the  offspring  is  white  and — in 
the  older  terminology — reversion  or  "atavism"  is 
manifested. 

A  very  simple  and  tangible  illustration  of  the 
phenomena  in  question  is  furnished  by  the  ex- 
periments in  animal  breeding  made  by  Professor 
William  E.  Castle  of  Harvard.  These  experi- 
ments furnish  a  peculiarly  appropriate  illustra- 
tion in  the  present  connection  because  it  chances 
that  the  animals  experimented  with  are  compa- 
rable to  our  blackberries  in  that  they  are  respec- 
tively black  and  white  in  color. 

The  animals  used  in  the  experiment  are  guinea 
pigs. 

An  Illustration  from  the  Animal  World 

Professor  Castle  shows  that  if  a  black  guinea 
pig  of  a  pure  strain  is  mated  with  a  white  guinea 
pig  of  a  pure  strain,  all  the  offspring  of  the  first 
generation  will  be  black;  and  it  is  therefore  said 
that  blackness  is  preponent  or  dominant,  and 


348  LUTHER   BURBANK 

whiteness  recessive.  But  if  two  of  these  black 
offspring  are  interbred,  it  is  an  observed  fact 
that  among  their  progeny  three  out  of  four  indi- 
viduals will  be  black  like  their  parents  and  one 
of  their  grandparents,  and  the  fourth  one  will  be 
white  like  the  other  grandparent. 

The  Mendelian  explains  that  the  factor  of 
whiteness  was  submerged,  dominated  by  the 
factor  of  blackness,  in  the  second  generation; 
but  that  half  the  germ  cells  of  these  black  indi- 
viduals contained  the  factor  of  whiteness,  and 
that  by  the  mere  law  of  chance  the  union  of  these 
germ  cells  brought  together  about  one  time  in 
four  two  of  the  cells  having  the  recessive  white 
factor ;  such  union  resulted  in  a  white  individual. 

Meantime  by  the  same  law  of  chance  the  other 
three  matings  out  of  the  four  brought  together 
in  one  case  two  black  factors  and  in  two  cases  a 
mixture  of  black  and  white  factors. 

As  black  is  dominant,  these  individuals  having 
the  mixed  factors  would  be  individually  black 
(just  as  those  of  the  first  cross  were  black) ;  but 
their  progeny  in  due  course  will  repeat  the 
formula  of  their  parent  by  producing  one  white 
individual  in  four. 

It  should  be  explained  that  the  Mendelian,  in 
expressing  this  formula,  usually  substitutes  foi 
the  word  "factor,"  as  here  employed,  the  newly 


THE    WHITE    BLACKBERRY     349 

devised  word  "allelomorph,"  although  the  less 
repellant  equivalent  "determiner"  is  gaining  in 
popularity.  He  calls  the  body  substance  of  an 
animal  or  plant  a  "zygote,"  and  he  describes  an 
individual  that  contains  factors  of  a  single  kind, 
as  regards  any  pair  of  unit  characters  (say  only 
for  blackness  in  the  case  of  our  blackberries  or 
Professor  Castle's  guinea  pigs),  as  a  "homo- 
zygote";  contrariwise  a  body  having  both  types 
of  factors  (blackberries  or  guinea  pigs  of  the 
second  generation,  for  example)  as  a  "hetero- 
zygote." 

But  these  big  words,  while  it  is  convenient  to 
know  their  meaning,  need  not  greatly  concern 
us.  It  suffices  to  recall  the  convenient  terms 
"dominant"  and  "recessive";  to  recognize  that  a 
good  many  antagonistic  traits  may  be  classed  as 
unit  characters;  and  to  welcome  the  conception 
of  the  division  of  the  factors  or  determiners  of 
such  a  pair  of  unit  characters  in  the  germ  cell,  as 
enabling  us  to  form  a  tangible  picture  of  the 
modus  operandi  through  which  the  observed 
phenomena  of  heredity  may  be  brought  about. 

Mixed  Heritage  of  the  Blackberries 

It  remains  to  be  said  that  the  case  of  our  black- 
berries is  a  little  more  complex  than  the  case 
of  the  guinea  pigs  just  referred  to,  because  there 


850  LUTHER   BURBANK 

is  a  second  pigment  involved.  The  "Crystal 
White"  berry,  it  will  be  recalled,  was  not  white 
but  brownish  in  color.  There  were  thus  trans- 
missible two  pairs  of  unit  characters  involved  as 
regards  the  matter  of  color,  namely  ( 1 )  black  ver- 
sus white,  and  (2)  yellow  or  brown  versus  white. 

The  black  factor  or  determiner  dominated 
absolutely  in  the  first  generation;  but  in  the 
second  generation  a  certain  number  of  germ  cells 
were  paired  in  such  a  way  as  to  eliminate  the 
black  but  retain  the  yellow  factor. 

It  required  a  third  mixture  of  the  germ-cell 
factors  to  produce  a  union  in  which  neither  black 
nor  yellow  factors  appeared,  the  offspring  of  this 
union  being  of  course  the  pure  white  blackberry. 

The  presence  of  the  yellow  factor  accounts  for 
the  further  fact,  to  which  reference  should  be 
made,  that  there  were  various  intermediate  types 
of  berries,  neither  black  nor  white,  which  ap- 
peared in  successive  generations  but  which  are 
eliminated  by  selection  as  they  did  not  fall  in 
with  our  plan  of  development  of  a  white  race. 

The  explanation  just  given  makes  it  clear 
that,  once  a  union  of  germ-cell  factors  having 
only  the  white  element  was  effected,  the  black 
and  the  yellow  factors  being  entirely  eliminated 
from  that  particular  individual,  the  germ  cells 
arising  from  that  individual  would  necessarily; 


THE   WHITE   BLACKBERRY     351 

contain  only  the  factor  of  whiteness;  hence  that 
all  the  progeny  of  that  individual  would  breed 
true  and  produce  white  berries. 

Such  is  indeed  the  observed  fact  with  my  de- 
veloped strains  of  white  blackberries.  Grown 
from  the  seeds,  these  breed  far  truer  to  their 
parentage  than  is  the  case  with  most  cultivated 
fruits.  As  to  certain  other  qualities  they  may 
vary,  but  all  are  white. 

The  Mendelian  explanation  obviously  cannot 
add  any  force  to  this  observed  and  long  ago 
recorded  fact. 

But  it  does  serve  to  explain  the  observed  fixity 
and  permanency  of  the  new  and  anomalous 
breed.  It  enables  us  in  a  sense  to  understand 
the  paradoxical  fact  that  a  berry  having  a  whole 
galaxy  of  black  ancestors  may  have  no  strain  of 
blackness,  no  tendency  to  reversion  to  the  black 
type,  in  its  composition. 

But  we  must  not  put  the  cart  before  the  horse 
by  supposing  that  the  new  explanation  adds  any- 
thing to  the  force  of  the  previously  observed 
facts.  Hypotheses  are  for  the  interpretation  of 
observed  phenomena,  not  phenomena  for  the 
interpretation  of  hypotheses. 

One  other  word  in  this  connection.  To  would- 
be  plant  experimenters  who  ask  my  opinion  of 
matters  connected  with  the  old  versus  the  new 


352  LUTHER   OBURBANK 

interpretations  of  heredity,  I  am  accustomed  to 
say: 

"Read  Darwin  first,  and  gain  a  full  compre- 
hension of  the  meaning  of  Natural  Selection. 
Then  read  the  modern  Mendelists  in  detail.  But 
then — go  back  again  to  Darwin." 

Bear  in  mind  Professor  J.  M.  Coulter's  com- 
ment that  "Mendelism  has  extended  from  its 
simple  original  statement  into  a  speculative 
philosophy,"  and  try  for  your  own  satisfaction 
to  separate  the  usable  formulas  from  the  intricate 
vagaries  of  the  new  creed  of  heredity. 

Let  me  cite  a  recent  assertion  of  Professor 
William  E.  Castle,  himself  one  of  the  foremost 
experimenters  along  the  lines  of  the  newest 
theory : 

"As  to  how  a  new  race  is  begotten  we  have  not 
got  much  beyond  Darwin;  indeed  many  of  us 
have  not  got  so  far." 

The  man  who  has  got  as  far  as  Darwin  in  the 
matter  of  understanding  racial  origins — to  say 
nothing  of  getting  beyond  him — even  in  our  day, 
is  no  tyro  in  the  study  of  heredity. 


Bead  Darwin  first;  then  read  the 
modern  Mendelists;  and  then — go 
back  to  Darwin. 


,^1.1    '^Jv-j'tt-^^i*.    fi„»ij    »Y^t^J!l'J,^p 


